Returning to School ~An 80-Year Gap~

An 80-Year Gap

One day, I woke up in what seemed like a hospital bed. The "nurse" there said, "Welcome home." With her help, I grabbed the handrail on the wall and tried to walk outside. Then, I spotted a cable leading downwards from my pillow. I somehow made it to the next room and practiced walking. After that, I practiced grasping the objects on the desk there: a pencil, a ballpoint pen, a spoon, a bowl, a book, a notebook, a newspaper, and several mysterious objects I'd never seen before. The "nurse" who was supervising me told me that the newspaper was still being printed in small print, and many people had never seen it. I opened it, and the date "October 3, 2055" was written on the top edge.

The "nurse" asked me to "say something," and when I spoke for the first time, I was taken aback by how beautiful my voice was. It didn't sound like my own. When I accidentally blurted out "a stewardess" out of habit, I was told repeatedly, "Don't use that word. Say 'a flight attendant.'" After a few days of this, it took me a few days to finally be able to move freely. Then the long lecture session began.

First, I was shown a video recording a few hours of everyday life in the modern world. It was projected on a picture frame that looked like a television. It began with a scene of me getting up from bed. It then shifted to a breakfast scene, showing people eating their breakfast as usual, and others with what appeared to be cables plugged into wall sockets. It must have been me in the future. The camera entered a small store near the house known as a convenience store. Various drinks were lined up in plastic bottles. There was no glass bottled cola anywhere. There was also canned drinks, but the lid was a pull-to-open style that wouldn't come off. The camera then arrived at the station near "home." However, there was no station attendant at the entrance to handle tickets. Instead, people held something like a notebook up to one of the rows of machines, opened the door, and passed through. On the train, the next station was displayed alternately as the train moved, which surprised me. When we arrived at school, an image instead of a blackboard was projected onto the wall, and the teacher never wrote anything.

At night, the camera returned to the house. The "frame used as a TV" was placed against the wall in the living room. The scene then shifted to the children's room, where they were using the mysterious object to do their homework. When they opened what looked like a bifold plastic plate, one side displayed an image, and the other side contained a number of buttons with letters on them.

The next day, life training began in a studio that recreated a home from "this era." We first went to the living room, then the kitchen. Surprisingly, there hadn't been any changes there, so it only took about a day in total. Finally, we were given training on how to use the "bifold plastic plate-like thing" known as a "laptop" and the "bifold plastic plate-like thing" known as a "smartphone," which are essential for "living" in "this era."

As I stood in front of the mirror just before going to sleep, I looked at myself and realized I'd faithfully retained the appearance I had back then. Those days were supposed to be filled with hope. But why...

After about two months of this training, I met with my younger sister Natsuko's daughter, Eri, and granddaughter, Yui. Eri told me about Natsuko's wish to be in a nursing home. "I just want to see Fumiko again someday and talk to her," she said.

The three of us left the factory where I was "born" and headed for the station to head to Eri's house in Uji, Kyoto Prefecture. The birthplace of my body is the Nobi Humanotech Inc's Ogaki Factory. Located a short 10 or 20 minute walk from Ogaki Station, this over 100-year-old factory was built shortly after World War II. Apparently it was originally a spinning mill, but has now been refurbished with the latest high-tech equipment.

We took a series of trains to Kyoto Station. I couldn't believe my ears when Eri said we will taking the Nara Line. The platform for it, a rundown, dingy diesel car that runs maybe once an hour and I'd rarely ridden long ago, but it was overflowing with people, and the train itself was packed to the brim now. Many of the passengers were seemed to foreign tourists, and I was so shocked by the change that my 'facial muscles' froze as I looked around the car. Most of the foreigners got off at Inari Station, leaving the train empty. I used to take the Keihan Uji Line, which I could get on almost without waiting when I needed to.

After we arrived at Eri's house, we were first shown to a room. Yui, who had somehow found work within Kansai and didn't have to go to Tokyo, said, "Spend time there. There's even a charging pillow and things like that, so if you use that, you won't go hungry." I lay down on the bed in the room assigned to me, and a vague memory of the past began to form. That day, I saw run into a robber with a knife at my dorm near my university. And then, something flowed onto the floor. When my mother met me at the police station, I saw my mother crying, but I couldn't say anything, and it made me sad and regretful.

The next day, Eri guided us through the entrance to the nursing home where Natsuko was staying. The building was quiet, and the smell of sweet tea wafted through the hallway. After checking in and walking for a while, we stopped in front of a room.

"Apparently, your mother has been dying to see you ever since she ordered your body. I asked her, 'What if your mother became an android too?' But after hearing that, she's been wondering what to do, and it seems she hasn't come to a decision yet."

Eri whispered to me.

I felt my palms sweat with nervousness. With an 80-year gap still weighing on my mind, I would be facing my sister. The door in front of me opened, and I stepped inside. There was a woman sitting on a bed with her white hair tied back. Her back was slightly bent, but the sparkle in her eyes and the way her lips moved were just like the Natsuko I knew.

"Big sister?"

The moment I heard that voice, my heart trembled. I instinctively ran over and took her hand. It was bony and wrinkled, but it was definitely my sister's.

"Natsuko... it's me, Fumiko."

Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Really... you're still so young... am I dreaming?"

"I'm not dreaming. I finally get to meet you."

I tried to hug her, but her size and strength were no longer what they used to be. I gently placed my hand on her back, and Natsuko leaned against me like a small child.

"I've been kept waiting for 80 years, so I've become quite an old lady."

Natsuko said self-deprecatingly, and I couldn't help but blurt it out.

"But your laugh, Natsuko, is still the same as it was back then."

We both laughed out loud. But as we laughed, tears spilled down our faces.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be by your side forever."

"No. Now that we've met, that's enough."

After that, Eri and Yuuki left the room. Natsuko and I were left alone in the room, and time passed quietly. Even though we didn't say much, the warmth of each other's hands seemed to fill the 80-year gap.

After that, we were told we'd be getting in a car and going somewhere. I was also surprised that the car's windows would open up with the push of a button. The car drove deep into the mountains and eventually came to a stop. We walked a short distance from there to an open area where there were several stone monuments. I stood in front of one of the monuments Eri pointed to. I stared blankly at the inscriptions engraved there.

"Reigan, Myojo Shin’nyo, (lit. Beautiful Smiled Disciple), Secular Name: Sudo Fumiko, Died October 21, 1975, Age: 21"

A few seconds later, I became a little embarrassed by the inscriptions and turned away, blushing brightly. I can fully understand how the monk felt when he wrote the posthumous Buddhist name. My memories of my time here are of lying there in a dark, small room in the basement. I was tired of it. Bored. I had nothing to do. And that's it. I wonder how I managed to spend eighty years in a place like this. On my way out, I gently stroked the stone monument.

More time passed, and after the necessary paperwork was completed, I went to school. Eighty years had been a blank period for me. Some of the buildings had been rebuilt in that time, but there were some that looked familiar. My first class after "returning to school" was "Digital Media in Everyday Life." I had done my homework, but I had no confidence at all that I would be able to understand. But the teacher's easy-to-understand explanations gradually helped me to understand.

Even after starting university, I continued to visit Natsuko from time to time. On days when classes ended in the morning, I would take the train to the nursing home. Outside the school gates, students were walking bustlingly, smartphones in hand. Still a little taken aback by her appearance, I had another destination in mind.

Whenever I entered Natsuko's room, she was always sitting by the window, gazing out the window.

"You came again today, sis?"

"Yes. I attended class properly, so don't worry."

I showed her the day's laptop assignment and explained it to her. Natsuko tilted her head, but listened with interest.

"It's a strange time, with no blackboards or chalk."

"That's true. But your teacher's voice hasn't changed. It's easy to understand, and I'm grateful for that."

Natsuko smiled slowly as I said this.

"You've always loved learning new things, sis. That hasn't changed."

On another day, Eri and Yui joined us in the room, and the four of us sat around a table. When Natsuko began to tell me stories from the past, I listened intently, trying to jog my memory.

"Do you remember when we were little and we would run along the banks of the Uji River and along the sandbar?"

"Of course. You'd pull me up when I'd fall and get covered in mud."

As we talked, the gap between past and present gradually blurred.

On our way home, Natsuko always held my hand tightly.

"When you come to visit me like this, I find the strength to live again."

"It's the same for me, Natsuko. You're the reason I can do my best in this new world."

Even after 80 years, our bond as sisters remained unbroken. While I was embarking on my "new normal" of returning to school, Natsuko and I were reaffirming our "old, everyday routine."