Beauty Belongs to the Flowers by Matthew Sanborn Smith

Author:Matthew Sanborn Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group
Published: 1993-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Miho!”

She spun around to find Ichiro, much more muscular than the last time she saw him. He held two armloads of office supplies. Aimi, always by his side, was empty-handed.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, dropping his bags on the counter.

“I’m working here. In the kitchen.” She’d decided to work through the evening, sending an angry Tomi back to Leslie alone.

“Miho, you can’t do this.”

“Your parents like my work,” she said indicating the machine.

“My parents like you, Miho.”

“Don’t you?”

His body turned a few centimeters in Aimi’s direction, but his eyes never left the floor at Miho’s feet.

“Go home, Aimi,” he said. Aimi took a step and then stopped. Her eyes weren’t trained on anything in particular. It seemed to Miho that she had shut down.

“I do like you,” Ichiro said. “I like you a lot, but I like a lot of girls a lot. I’m not looking to be with one person. You need to see other boys.”

Aimi shifted again and came closer to Miho. “I have a solution,” she said in her squeaky little-girl voice.

“I want to see you, Ichiro,” Miho said. She blinked her eyes dry, not wanting to contaminate her work station.

Aimi rested her fingertips on Miho’s bare leg. They felt fever-warm and vibrated like the engine of the ancient car Miho’s uncle had once owned. Aimi’s shining blue hair quivered beneath the air-conditioning vent. She said to Miho,

“The closer you are, the more fearful Ichiro becomes. Maybe we could all have fun together, the three of us, and he wouldn’t be afraid anymore.”

Sweat broke out on Miho’s forehead.

“Aimi!” Ichiro said. Miho looked about to see if he’d attracted the attention of the others in the room. The strain with which Tanaka-san’s employees evaded her eyes told her that he had. In a lower voice, he said, “Go home immediately.”

“I’m sorry if I angered you, Ichiro.” She left without saying goodbye or apologizing to Miho.

“I’m so sorry, Miho,” Ichiro said, his red face still tilted downwards. “Please don’t pay any attention to her—she’s just a stupid robot. Forgive me for owning such a piece of shit. Please excuse me—I have work to do.” He grabbed his bags and headed for his mother’s office.

Miho wiped her forehead with a paper towel. Did he really like other girls? Real girls? She knew only of Rebecka, and that was over a year ago. No, he had no real girls. No real girl could win a man’s love like an artificial one could; Aimi’s loyalty—and perhaps more importantly, her respect—would be unquestionable. And Tanaka-san had mentioned the robot specifically, with disgust in his eyes.

So Ichiro wanted to get rid of Miho. She half-considered his advice, and tried to think of another boy she liked, but couldn’t imagine one. She suddenly wanted to leave. Maybe she could still catch up with Tomi. But she’d already agreed to stay, and she wouldn’t disappoint Tanaka-san on top of angering Ichiro.

But why would he be afraid of her?

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