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“…uh, Caine?”
“Yes dear?”
She looked up at the bizarre contraption in the center of the small training ring. It seemed to be made up of 12 or more mannequins, awkwardly strung together.
“-what is this thing supposed to be?”
“I’m glad you asked!” He pushed off the top mannequin, hitting the ground solidly only a meter from where she was standing.
“This-“ he gestured to the bizarre rig “-is your new training opponent! From a higher position, I can puppeteer this baby to swing and dodge just as good as any fighter you’d meet on stage!”
Caine nudged her lightly with his elbow.
“Far better than a normal punching bag, eh?”
She looked back up at the structure.
“Is this where most of the money from my last fight went? This thing?”
“Ah-hah…”
His gaze had shifted awkwardly to the side.
“What, did you think I wouldn’t ask?”
“-I was hoping you’d be impressed by my craftsmanship.”
“I’ll be impressed— if the thing works half as good as you think it will. Why does it have to be this big anyways?”
The question seemed to perk him up a bit, fishing a small paper pamphlet from his vest pocket.
“Voilà! Meet Slink, your next opponent!”
“...A bundle of ribbons with a mask-“
“-That’s as tall as you standing on my shoulders—and likely three times that if you stretched her out end to end.”
“And this…mannequin contraption is supposed to mimic that size difference?”
“Yes, but more importantly, it mimics her whiplash length—Slink’s namesake is evasiveness, with landing a hit being the biggest hurdle to conquer in a fight against her.”
Pomni tilted down the paper, handing it back.
“So you’re puppeteering this thing to imitate her in training. Interesting.”
“I told you there was a method to my madness!”
“…hm. Okay then, I’ll try anything once.”
A myriad of puppet strings controlled the dummy opponent, hooked up to a bizarre cross rig in the rafters. Those were connected to separate strings, which was what Caine manipulated from the ground. As far as his random impulse purchases went, this was easily the most convoluted thing he’d gotten for training purposes.
“Okay-! All good on my end, ready to go?”
“…I was just waiting on you, Caine.”
He huffed a little, hopping up to pull the strings more taut.
“-Bubble!”
Bubble had been in position the whole time, striking the match bell with a small pinball hammer held in their mouth. With the strike, the match was on.Despite the size of the contraption, it was pulled into action with the kind of intensity that gave the impression that it was a lot lighter than it looked. Pomni immediately ducked in towards the defined ‘head’ of the dummy, pulling back her right arm for an opening jab. With a tug of a few strings, it quickly slithered back, twisting so its head was now below her hit. With each adjustment to redirect her velocity, it curved wildly, spinning up and around her head. The ‘arms’ of the contraption swung wildly with the twisting movements, barely missing her as they flew past her head.Okay, plan B. By using the puppet’s body as a foothold, she could get herself level with the head at least. It’d also focus the fighter in an awkward spot to defend themselves as she closed the gap.Problem: this thing was running circles around the ring, and she could barely keep track of where its designated head even was.It was hard to believe that Caine was this good at maneuvering it- wasn’t this the first time he’d touched a rig like this? A hidden talent maybe? Another string pulled taut, the puppet coiled back to a corner again, standing up in an almost cobra-like stance. Caine shouted a taunt from his position off-stage.
“A bit tougher than you expected?”
“—just figuring you out.”
She took up a defensive position, baiting out the strike this time. A follow-up would probably be better for getting close to the head. She could probably even use the rig’s arm as her footstool given how long the limbs were. It dove towards her, akin to a hawk, head practically scraping the ring’s floor. She was running to it, leaping the limbs as they swung in her direction. A foothold on the left arm, hook hard with the right. She was practically at the head. With a slight huff, Caine spun the string mechanism in some odd manner, and the puppet fully turned its body, tail high by the rafters. With the sudden movement, Pomni had lost a foothold on its shoulder, pushing off to make distance with the arms. It was practically performing a handstand, which thankfully put the head arm level. She went to dash forward to it, but the torso pulled further back, twisting its lower half to drop the tail from its position.In the next millisecond, she flew into one of the corner posts of the ring, a painful crack ringing in her ears as she was clotheslined by the impact. The tail had hit her in the left abdomen, and it might as well have been a showstopper’s home run swing with the velocity of it slapping her. She slumped on the floor, the lights above flickering in and out as they spun overhead.
“Oh my god-“
You could hear the wooden marionette controls clatter against the concrete, along with Caine’s frantic running towards her.His voice was fading in and out alongside her general consciousness but eventually became clearer with his constant shaking.
“Pomni, Pomni—I’m so sorry I’m so sorry-“
“-It’s fine, it just hurts-“ She went to try to sit up, but immediately fell back flat with the stabbing pain which shot through her entire left side. Even breathing hurt to an unbelievable degree.
“Are you unable to move that side? Is it broken?”
She couldn’t manage anything more than a groan, wobbling on the edge of a sob.
“Ow, ow…” a censored swear shot out of her mouth without forewarning.
Throughout the entirety of her human life and beyond—she had never experienced pain like this.
“Am I dying? Is- is there blood?”
“You aren’t dying sweetheart, I promise…”
Caine tapped his hands up and down along her side, applying the slightest amount of pressure.
“I’m just trying to gauge where you may have been hurt—“
“Did something happen? Why is Pomni lying down?”
They’d both practically forgotten Bubble was even there.
“Injury. Go call for medical staff, and get some ice while you’re at it.”
“Got it, boss!”
Bubble floated off, just leaving the two of them on the floor.Usually, coaches weren’t supposed to administer first aid to their fighters—Caine knew that—but, it wasn’t like there was another option right now. It’d be cruel to leave her lying on the floor in pain...
“Pomni, can you indicate where the sharp pain is coming from? I’m going to press lightly into your side, you may have broken something.”
“Okay..”
Just under the arm, more level with the heart, just under the chest—A sharp yell gave enough indication to let up pressure on the spot. Her legs flailed about slightly, unable to move her body above her waist without more pain. He moved his hand to one knee, trying to hold the leg in place.
“Deep breaths- deep breaths…moving around will just make it hurt worse.”
“—When is Bubble supposed to be coming back? How long does it take to get ice and make a call?”
“I should’ve done that myself…I’m so sorry-“
Pomni’s eyes were drifting again. It seemed she was close to losing consciousness.He took her hand up in his, squeezing it tightly, enough that his arm cramped up.
“Hey hey hey hey—just keep talking, okay..I don’t need you blacking out right now, alright? Pomni- Pompom, hey-“
She gripped tightly in response, giving out a small huff of pain. Thankfully, he didn’t have any bones she could break—otherwise, most of the ones in his hand would’ve been crushed.She inhaled heavily before each sentence, obvious the pain that it took to speak.
“…you did a good job puppeteering that uh- that rig thing. I’m guessing that smacking me like that wasn’t intentional?”
“Not that hard!! I was aiming to maybe sweep your feet—not hit you square in the torso!”
“You seemed to be enjoying it.”
“Well-“
He glanced across her shoulder for a second.
“-of course I did… I spend all my time watching you fight and I don’t have any sort of way to actively help you get better—I was hoping that this would let me…y’know, actually get to participate in your training a bit more.”
She looked back up at him from where she was lying. Her expression softened a little bit—at least, as much as it could, given the situation.
“…that’s fair. I had fun—at least up until that thing slapped me in the ribs.”
She snickered a little, jerking since it hurt.
“But, maybe next time…put a bit more cushioning on the limbs?”
He couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. There was too much stress weighing on him, too much of a possibility that her carefree attitude was a lie.A bag of ice dropped next to him, halfway scaring him to death.It was Bubble.
“Oh, Bubble, you’re back!”
“Yup, got the ice, just like you asked!”
Caine took off his vest, awkwardly wrapping it about the bag of ice. Once wrapped, he pressed it gently into Pomni’s side.
“Okay, did you call for a medic like I asked?”
“Nope!”
He almost did a double-take at Bubble’s cheerfulness, and even Pomni made an expression at the exclamation.
“What? I asked you to call for a medic! Why didn’t you do that?- That would’ve been more important than the ice!”
“Got no hands, boss!”
Caine sighed.
“Fair enough…guess I’ll be making the call myself after all. Just get my phone.”
Bubble left again, and Pomni let out a frustrated huff.
“Well…so much for that. At least there’s ice now.”
Caine paused a moment, glancing awkwardly around the room debating how to ask this really awkward question.
“...Hey, I’m going to need to cut away at this side seam on your leotard.”
“What—why?”
“On the call with emergency response, they’re probably going to ask about any bruising present at the area of injury. If you’ve broken something it’ll probably be bruised already. If you aren’t comfortable with that I won’t, the medics can check that when they get here-”
“-no, it’s fine, you can do that I guess—just don’t cut the entire seam.”
“I won’t.”
He took out a small pocket knife from his pant pocket, slipping it under the leotard next to the side seam and cutting about halfway up the side. It was kind of…weirdly intimate, feeling his hands poke along her bare skin—especially somewhere so vulnerable.In the moments that she felt the pocket knife beneath her clothing, it had occurred to her how many coaches there were in this world. She’d easily gone against some 20 or more people—with most of them having individual AI coaches that managed their progress, their living quarters, their…everything.It reminded her of a conversation she’d had with one of the vendors here—one of the only human vendors she had met since she came here:“I thought all humans that ended up here were in the circuit.”“It’s the only real ‘good’ choice for most. But I can’t take risks like that.”“Don’t like taking punches?”The vendor’s gaze had tilted a bit then, turning dimmer.
“…not quite. To join the circuit, you need a manager. Finding one’s not bad—there are almost more AIs than people. If you have a good build, you might even get traded around, and get some good money bonuses here and there.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a dead-end road though.”
His eyes shifted. “The top of the leaderboard right now—Jack? Jackrabbit? Whatever…I expect him dead by the end of the year, if not sooner than that. Some unrecognizable burnt remains in a dumpster somewhere.”
She’d spaced out a bit and had been holding her breath without realizing it. He just continued talking, speaking in a low hum that hinted that she shouldn’t repeat this.
“-His manager, he’s one of two ‘foundational AIs’ with smarter logic algorithms. That AI, Evesgarden…he’s gained and ‘lost’ at least 5 to 7 leaderboard-worthy fighters since I gave up on joining the circuit.”
“Mm-hm.”
“It’s the same schedule. The new recruit launches up the ranks with impeccable ability, and is shot into the high life with their newfound fame among the other consistent big leagues—and then they lose.”
He fiddled with a small figurine in his hand.
“They lose—and they vanish. You’ll never see a missing person’s report for them, you’ll never hear that they were found dead…there will never be any investigation. They were simply ‘dropped.’ They fell off the face of the Earth. Every manager is gunning for the fastest racehorse, you know? The second one breaks its leg—you chuck it out and go for the next one.”
He could tell that she had stiffened up a bit, and quickly went to cut his ramble off.
“They’re all the same, kid. You’re new, right? Haven’t picked a manager up yet?”
“...No, not quite.”
“Alright. Then just keep that in mind. They all act on the same algorithm—just choose whatever sword you think is best to sit under.”
He then slammed down the steel storefront to the little shop, ending the conversation just as abruptly as it had started.When the pocket knife was slipped by her side, it would’ve been so easy to just…stab her. Her diaphragm was right there, and given the state of pain she was in, it’d be unlikely that she’d be able to escape the situation alive before bleeding to death or dying of asphyxiation. This was his studio she was staying in, and given this injury—she likely wouldn’t be able to fight for a couple of weeks. That was their income.It would’ve been so simple, morbidly simple, to have just put down the ‘racehorse’ once it broke a leg. No part of a manager’s job description involved medical aid of any sort, much less the need to apologize for it (over and over and over again…) By the rules of this world’s hierarchy, Caine had an unbelievable amount of power over her—enough that murdering her for the mistake of getting herself injured would likely hold no blowback, no damage to future dealings. And yet the knife had been held so far from her skin to pull away the cloth and it was cut so quickly that it seemed it wasn’t even a consideration.Maybe it was wishful thinking for affections that weren’t there, maybe just her wanting a sense of normal connection in an otherwise upside-down world. But the thought made her head spin a little, unsure if her stomach was teeming with butterflies or a deep sense of dread.
“..is it bad?”
Caine took a deep inhale.
“Yeah. Purple/red bruising, really dark in color. It’s only been a couple of minutes—something’s definitely broken.”
He pushed the ice back into the spot where it hurt most, lifting her back up slightly with his other hand. He threaded the vest beneath her, tying the pack to her side with it.
“Sorry. It’s not much, but maybe a little less exposed?”
“I didn’t care anyways, but thanks. It’ll at least keep it in place.”
While it had felt like a matter of minutes, it had only been a couple of seconds, with Bubble bounding back to Caine’s side, phone in between sharp teeth.The call sat uncomfortably long waiting for the line to pick up.
“Hello, Manager Caine Evesgarden.”
The chatter on the other end of the line was not loud enough to hear from where Pomni was lying on the ground.
“-I’m going to need a medic here promptly—serious injury, likely a broken rib, intense bruising after a few minutes, unable to sit up straight or move injured area at all.”
Hm. He actually looked kind of nice without the vest. It was a weird thing to think about now, but it was either that or watching the fan spin lazily overhead.
“-alright. Thank you.”
He hung up, handing the phone back to Bubble, who promptly bit down on it.
“Guess I’m going to be here for a few more minutes?”
“A few, but not many! They usually have medics on site nearby many training studio areas. There’s a lot of fighters, and that equals a lot of injuries—if the option was up to me, I’d say it’s probably a more stable income than…this.”
Pomni started to laugh at it before that laugh turned into the piercing pain that she’d almost forgotten.She wasn’t sure which was worse—the fact that she hurt so much that laughing made it worse, or that she’d laughed at something so corny.Indeed, it only took a few minutes for the medics Caine had called to arrive at their small studio. It was a pair of robots, although their strikingly similar appearances indicated they were at least the same model.Large computer screens loomed over her collapsed body, with small projected eyes scanning up and down. It felt like she was the dissection frog in a middle school science class. One of the pair chimed in a light female voice, examining the bruising along her side.
“Oh my, it does seem quite severe~ are you not able to sit up at all?”
Pomni attempted like she had half an hour ago, but was just as successful. If anything, it hurt worse to try than it did initially.
“Ah…so it is. My, it seems your manager’s diagnosis of a broken rib is probably the head of the nail~”
She turned towards Caine, who could only bring himself to be a couple of feet away while the medics did their job. His standoffish posture didn’t make it seem like he trusted them necessarily.
“Mr. Evesgarden, it’s rare to see managerial staff provide such expert medical analysis…where did you learn it, I wonder~?”
“EVE, cut it out, this is serious.”
The other robot cut off the first’s playful tone, speaking in a deeper, more choppy tone.
“Okay, okay….”
EVE promptly slid her arms (resembling some sort of power supply cord) beneath Pomni’s neck and legs, hoisting her up to chest level. She thrashed a bit, with the sudden movement making the pain along her side spike violently. She couldn’t help but make a small yelp of discomfort.Caine immediately stepped forward.
“Hey! Don’t just- don’t just throw her around! She’s my champion, I don’t want her hurt worse than she already is!”
The other of the two medic robots placed himself between Caine and EVE.
“No worries, sir, we’ll just be moving Miss Pomni to our med bay to do a proper analysis of the exact injury—along with performing surgery, if necessary.”
“…Okay, and I assume I’ll be coming with? To make sure that she’s treated properly within your walls.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Evesgarden~ actually, it’s not allowed at all!” EVE said cheerfully. “Managerial staff aren’t allowed around unstable human patients~ it ensures medical staff can work their hardest without any sort of bias towards one champion or another~”
“But I-“
“No worries though-! In a few days when Miss Pomni’s condition is less dire, you’re free to come by~ I’ll surely welcome you!”
Pomni could barely see his expression was here, but the discomfort was palpable in the way Caine spoke.
“-and how long will that be?”
“Unsure.” The other robot beeped.
“If your diagnosis of the situation is correct, I’d assume a day or so. I wouldn’t worry too much about this, Mr. Evesgarden—your champion is safe in our capable hands.”
Before he’d even had time to give confirmation, EVE had already whisked her out of the studio, practically flying through crowds of people towards the medical clinic.The robot’s eyes glossed over Pomni quickly, up down up down and up again, chattering away at a breakneck pace. She was speaking so quickly that there was no hope of joining whatever conversation she was intent on having.
“Ughh I’m so jealous!!! How did you end up with one of the Evesgarden AIs?! I’m not even allowed near the others’ estate anymore!!”
“Wait what-“
“The thought of one of Evesgarden’s doing maintenance work on my own damaged pieces— ah!! It’s enough to make ones’ water boil!”
“I didn’t want to hear that!”
“And I’d rather be Jackrabbit! In life, none of us get what we truly want…!”
Between her sing-song voice at a fever pitch and the giggles interspersed in her speech, it became impossible to keep up with her blabbering—and it became impossible for Pomni to stay conscious any longer.When she finally came to, she’d already been tucked into a hospital bed. Surprisingly, she didn’t have an IV, but she could also tell that she had been put in some sort of brace that kept her from moving her chest much. More notably, she was hooked up to all sorts of medical reading equipment, with a blood pressure cuff and heart monitor on the same arm. As well, there were some more electrical nodes down by the injured area—the machine they were attached to seemed to be tracking electrical signals caused by muscle contractions on that side.It was almost eerily quiet, but also felt nice. It was just her and her thoughts, bouncing gently off the white walls.…Evesgarden, huh. The same AI framework that that shopkeeper had talked about. The same framework that the current champion had as their own manager.She’d only seen him in passing, and remembered how odd she felt, evening just looking at an image of him. It was like being stared through.No face, nothing to read, no kind of emoting of any sort. It was the first time she’d really felt the coldness she’d expect interacting with something called an ‘artificial intelligence.’…and Caine was that same framework. The same type of AI, in theory.But that didn’t really make any sense, did it?“They all act on the same algorithm.” But that seemed so contradictory! Unless warmth was the strategy of one Evesgarden AI, and coldness the other.But even that didn’t really line up with how Caine had approached her—never mind the concept of a foundational AI in this world being so…nonsensical, logic-wise.The door to her room burst open, with EVE floating through with a few papers in her arms. With a flick of her hand, a chair spun to the side of the hospital bed, and EVE handed the stack over to Pomni before quickly sitting down. The papers were a series of X-rays.
“Good Evening, Miss Pomni! While you were unconscious, me and ADAM took the opportunity to take some X-rays and gather your vitals~”
Pomni’s eyes scanned through the X-Rays. One showed a noticeable fracture.
“Uh, so I did break something-?”
“Just one rib on your left side~ frankly, not that bad in the grand scheme of injuries-!”
“…okay, that’s good to hear, I guess.”
“Un-fortunately, the lack of severity means we can’t really do much to help you get better any faster~ you’ll notice the minor chest brace—that and pain medication is about the most we can really do.”
That wasn’t…particularly promising.
“So you can’t fix it?”
“It’ll fix itself—I’d give it a week or two before doing follow-up X-rays to see if it’s resealed properly.”
“Two weeks? I thought a broken rib would take a couple of months to heal- or, at least that’s the normal period.”
“But does anything about this seem normal, Miss Pomni?”
She shifted her eyes.
“…fair enough.”
“Well anyways—“
EVE shifted her sitting position, propping up her elbows (could you say she had elbows?) on the hospital bed railing, resting her large screen in her hands.
“—Now that all that serious stuff is out of the way~ what’s it like having an Evesgarden AI as your personal manager?”
Oh god, here we go again.
“Uh, well…” Pomni found herself nervously fidgeting with the X-ray photos. “Caine is uh…really eccentric... I suppose that’s the best word to describe it. He’s good at collaborating with other managers to bring these matches to life, but it always feels a little weird watching him interact with other AIs.”
“It’s that sense of godliness, yes? The way that the air freezes around them~”
“-not…quite. It’s like watching a game show host sign a contract with a mob boss. And he’s—not the mob boss.”
“Hm?”
“Well, you know- well I guess you don’t. But, like, compared to the managers of pretty much every other fighter I’ve gone against, he’s just this ball of energy. His enthusiasm is blissfully unaware of any sort of intimidation other managers have tried, and it often feels like we’re barreling towards success—literally so. Like going over Niagara Falls in a barrel to success.”
EVE paused for a long while, just blinking with an unchanging stare. It got to the point that the air had gotten a little tense.Then, she burst out in odd mechanical laughter, the projected eyes cartoonishly shedding tears.
“—I never would have guessed! My beloved Evesgarden is nothing like that at all!”
“..the one you’re not allowed on the estate of?”
“Details, details!”
EVE waved her hand about.
“Y’know, I was thinking that your Mr. Evesgarden seemed awful protective—we’ve never seen a manager so eager to head back with their injured champion~ never mind doing all that to perform rudimentary medical aid for a little human!”
The last bit made Pomni stiffen up a bit. It felt a little demeaning—but I guess that’s what she was in a world full of robots.
“I’m so jealous—! He seems to care a lot about you. Wrapping your jacket to keep a cold pack in place…it feels like something you’d read in a corny romance novel!”
“Uh…thanks?”
“Oh!”
Little blush lines appeared on EVE’s display screen, the projected eyes growing large with anime-styled highlights.
“I noticed that the side of your clothing had been cut away somewhat. It was ripped pretty crudely, so at first I’d assumed you tore it, but…”
“I…I’m deciding to not elaborate on that statement.”
EVE broke into another fit of giggles. “-silly! Refusing to answer just gives me the answer I’m fishing for! I mean, unless you’re hiding something else~”
“Huh?! Wh-where are you going with this conversation??!!”
“Nowhere! I just mean, uh, well-“ the stylized bubble eyes drifted nervously away from the bed, “-I had just made the assumption from the start that the torn fabric was purely for medical reasons-“
“-it was for medical reasons!”
“Oh, okay, alright—it was just that, with your evasiveness, Miss Pomni, along with your drastic change in color-“
“I am nOT CONTINUING THIS CONVERSATION-“
“Oh my—Your heart rate has increased by over 20 beats per minute in these past few seconds, and your temperature appears to be increasing rapidly as well…you aren’t running a fever, are you, Miss Pomni?”
The door clicked open.
“EVE, stop harassing patients for gossip. It’s against our medical conduct—are you wanting us both to get scrapped?!”
EVE practically launched herself up from the chair, nervously bowing.
“Of course not!! I was just asking questions about Mr. Evesgarden!”
“Uh huh. Just—if you could step out for a bit, I’m going to record current vitals real quick. Although, that might have to wait a minute or two considering whatever conversation you two were having in here.”
With a nervous laugh and a goodbye wave, EVE shuffled herself out of the room, nonexistent tail between her legs. Pomni’s face was still practically burning—perhaps she did have a fever after all.
“Good evening ma’am. Please forgive my other half.”
“It’s fine…it was just kind of embarrassing questions.”
“EVE’s goal is to construct the incredibly convoluted web of relationships between each and every fighter and manager within the Ace of Spades. Each slightly prying question has it’s purpose—I imagine your position on this web has already been perfectly calculated in her head.”
The matter-of-factness with which ADAM said this was a little disturbing, but Pomni was reeling too much from the former interrogation to be too bothered by it.
“Anywho, Miss Pomni—your condition is stable. We’ll be holding you for another day or so just to make sure that there’s no internal damage we may have missed during our initial checkup. Other than that, though, you are free to take visitors at this point. I just recommend you don’t undertake any vigorous exercise as of this point.”
“I can understand that. So, does that mean you’ll be contacting Ca—my manager soon? Since I’m able to take visitors.”
ADAM took the X-ray photos from her, arranging them neatly on the side desk.
“Only if that’s what you’d prefer. You don’t have to take any visitors if you wish to remain alone for the time being.”
“…No, it’s fine. You can tell him I’m fine. At least it’d give me some company up here.”
The quiet had been nice, but she did miss the usual chatter. A little. At least, it would be better than having EVE continue to hound her with invasive prodding.
“-Alright then. I’ll give you some time to rest, and notify your manager.”
ADAM gently floated past the bed, making it to the door.
“—oh! Wait-“
“Yes?”
“I actually have one more question..is EVE, like, your sister? Wife? You guys look really similar, and it’s been bugging me that I don’t know how you guys are related.”
ADAM turned to her, tilting his head slightly before answering.
“We are more or less the same person, split into two functioning halves. You could say that EVE is the charismatic side of our AI framework, while I have the logic half. Separating ourselves into two bodies simply was more efficient for the role of medical care.”
Pomni slowly nodded.
“O….kay then, thanks for telling me.”
“There is no issue.”
And with that, ADAM exited the room, leaving her by herself, counting the tiles along the ceiling until she eventually fell asleep.When she woke up again, it was to loud knocking on the hospital room door. Based on the wall clock, she had been out for about 2 hours. Pomni awkwardly shifted to sit up, but found herself quickly reminded of why that was a bad idea. She instead opted to incline the hospital bed slightly, and call from that position.
“Come in-“
It was about just as she had expected. Caine opened the door gently, but that politeness was ruined with bubble’s blunt shove through the doorway, slamming the handle into the wall with the force. The loud bang made her jump a little bit.
“Pomni! I was thinking you’d be hooked up to more equipment than this…I wasn’t even expected to be able to come check on you until midday tomorrow.”
“I’m just as surprised as you are…it seems that the fracture thankfully didn’t damage anything around it.”
Caine picked up the X-Ray photos on the side desk, flipping through them.
“So it was a fracture... Lower ribcage—along with some minor spleen tearing. I’m assuming that’s why they’re keeping you overnight…just to make sure that it heals on its own.”
“You can tell that based on the X-ray?”
“No, there’s notes on the X-Ray images.”
“…oh. I was about to ask where you got all this medical knowledge from—although I guess that question still applies.”
“The little first aid I was giving when you first got hurt?” He shook his head, laughing nervously. “That was nothing! I’ve read small amounts of medical pamphlets and books or whatnot…felt it’d be important to know!”
“Hm.”
Seemed as good of a note as any to ask Caine the question—ever since EVE had started fangirling during their trip back to the ER, something had been plaguing her.
“Hey, Caine-“
“Yes, dear?”
“Am I…how many human fighters have you coached through the circuit? One of the medics was yapping my ear off the entire time since she got ahold of your last name. I didn’t know you were, uhm…famous around these parts?”
His eyes shot wide, and it seemed like the question flustered him a bit. If he had a proper face, Pomni was certain it would’ve turned beet red.
“Ah—uh, me?? No, no no no no no…I’m not famous at all!! In fact, I’ve never coached anyone through the circuits prior to you!—I’m just as new to this as you are..!” He was talking so fast and almost fumbling over his words. It was kind of cute.
“…I’m your first champion? Ever?”
“Promise! Pinky promise, even!”
His eyes darted a bit nervously, and his voice dropped in tone.
“The medic is probably thinking of my brother…he’s the manager of Jackrabbit. The name Evesgarden is the only thing we have in common, though.”
The way his mood had darkened suggested that it wasn’t a topic she should push further.
“I’m just surprised that there’s a manager AI in this place who hadn’t had one fighter prior to now. I assumed everyone was leaping at the chance to get a fighter under their wing. Get a shot at being on top, y’know?”
“Yeah, I suppose it is a little hard to believe—but I wasn’t just looking for anybody! My brother would take up whatever woodblock-for-brains that struck the hardest against a bag, but I just… couldn’t do that. I needed someone I could really enthusiastically get behind with full applause, someone I could stand—but more importantly, someone who could stand me.”
He’d gotten a little lost in thought with his rambling and quickly snapped back into his usual demeanor. It was a little disappointing, honestly—Pomni could have stood to listen to him vent a little longer. It wasn’t something she ever got to see.
“Ah, I’m getting off-topic…but my qualifications for my champion fighter differ a little from many of the manager AIs here. You just happened to meet all the credentials, and actually take up on my offer!” He pressed a fist into his chest.
“More importantly than any of that, though-“ he dug through a small bag he’d brought in with him, “-I brought you some dinner! Alfredo pasta, it should still be warm. Nice and hearty.”
“Thanks. I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess I haven’t eaten anything since lunch…”
She took the little metal food contained. It was indeed still warm.Did food count as home-cooked if the world wasn’t real? Or if the person who made it isn’t a real person? If it was dependent on taste, it certainly felt home-made.
“I can’t have you starving up here while you recover—especially since this is pretty much all my fault…”
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize again. You already did it like 30 times earlier today. No hard feelings.”
“You say that, but I just keep saying it to make sure. You only begrudgingly agreed to participate in training with that weird contraption I hooked up, and I ended up getting too invested in the competition of it, ending up seriously hurting you. I don’t think I can apologize enough.”
She spoke between bites of food.
“Speaking of, you haven’t dismantled that thing and gotten rid of it, right?”
“Huh? I haven’t had the time. I spent a good chunk of the afternoon just preparing dinner for you.”
“Oh, okay. Just wanted to say not to get rid of it. I want to try fighting it again once I feel better.”
His head snapped towards her.
“Again? Why would you want to do that again?! Wasn’t one major injury from it enough?”
“-I don’t want to in the state it is right now! Some cushioning on the body is desperately needed so I don’t break anything else. But... I had fun playing with it. You also seemed to be enjoying it.”
Caine shrugged, smiling slightly.
"Yeah, it was fun to play with it—but I got too carried away with it-I don’t want to take my own fighter out of commission…”
“I’m fine with you getting carried away once the thing’s a little safer. I actually enjoyed that you got a bit carried away. Everyone in the ring is going to be fighting with all they’ve got—it’s only fair that I train under those conditions.”
“So, you want me to bring that thing out again? Actually.”
“Yeah. I want to knock the head of that thing into the rafters, and hear you sigh in defeat.”
He rolled his eyes, huffing a little.
“As if. You didn’t even get close the first time.”
At least, it seemed that had cured his over-apologizing. He was back to his more competitive, grandiose self.They continued talking well into the evening, eventually passing over into the night. A lot of time was spent again on Slink—this time, scrolling through tabloid and video footage of previous fights. Her patterns of movement were noticeable, although different in each clip. It seemed she’d have to be on the defensive for the first 30 seconds or so of the match—after she figured out their initial strategy, Slink’s movements would become relatively easy to predict.When night had fully fallen, Caine curled up in the corner of the room, falling asleep just about as quickly as he had gotten comfortable. Pomni was left by herself in the dark for a bit after that—just counting the ceiling tiles in an attempt to make herself fall asleep. His presence in the room gave a bit of warmth to it, as embarrassing as it was to admit.This whole scenario should’ve made her furious at him—and that’s not to say that she wasn’t mad at all. But overall, the ordeal had made him more endearing to her.Her consciousness let out a guttural sigh.
She was getting feelings, wasn’t she?
For an artificial intelligence.
For an artificial intelligence that had broken one of her ribs just earlier that same day.
None of this was real—just a bizarrely realistic computer simulation, with AIs having their own bizarrely realistic emotions.
But…
She looked over towards Caine curled up and asleep, Bubble quietly snoring in his lap.
…Maybe she was overthinking it. Right now, she was just as ‘real’ as everything else in this world. And if he felt his emotions were sincere—maybe it’d be rude to assume they weren’t. After all, she was the only authority on the sincerity of her own emotions. She’d get carried away, over-apologize for stupid mistakes she made, get moody over being compared to someone else… Maybe the shopkeeper was wrong. Not overall, but maybe just this once.
Maybe…she could relax a little.
With that thought in mind, she could finally fall asleep, flat against the reclined bed.When she’d awake in the morning, she’d find that the vest from earlier had been laid out across her torso, as if it’d provide any sort of blanket-like insulation. And yet, she somehow felt warmer than she had without it.