Fragments Of Us

The Sakura trees outside swayed gently in the breeze, their pale pink petals dancing through the air like tiny whispers of spring. Toshi sat at his desk, chin propped on one hand as his gaze lingered on the view beyond the window. The muffled hum of students chatting filled the classroom, but it was little more than background noise to him. A gust of wind swept in, tousling his white hair, pulling him momentarily from his daydreams.

Then he saw them.

Across the courtyard, on the rooftop of the adjacent building, two girls stood close, silhouetted against the bright sky. Their kiss was tender yet unguarded, a moment entirely their own. Toshi found himself watching, unable to look away, though he didn't understand why.

Something stirred in his chest, like a thread tugging loose from a carefully woven tapestry. His brow furrowed as a question surfaced, clear and unbidden: Was it always this way? Girls with girls, boys with boys?

He tried to shake it off, his fingers brushing his temple as if the motion alone could banish the question. Of course, it's always been this way, he told himself. The certainty of that answer should have been enough. But it wasn't.

The thought came again, insistent, tugging at the edges of his mind. Was it? Really? Like it was 100 or 200 years ago?

This time, there was no answer.

The question lingered, stubborn and uncomfortable, unraveling the quiet complacency that had long cushioned his thoughts. He sat up straighter, his shoulders tense, and muttered under his breath, "Stop overthinking. Just stop."

But the questions refused to leave, winding tighter in his mind. With a frustrated sigh, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, ignoring the curious glances of a few classmates.

The hallway was quieter, the faint buzz of conversation and the squeak of shoes against the tiled floor a backdrop to his troubled thoughts. He made his way to the cafeteria, hoping that a change of scenery—and perhaps some caffeine—might clear his head.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted him, warm and familiar. He bought a cup, wrapping his hands around it as though its heat might ground him. Settling at an empty table, he took a slow sip, the bitter taste pulling him momentarily into the present.

But even here, the questions followed.

Why does this bother me so much? he thought, his grip tightening on the cup. It was as though his own mind refused to obey his commands, the questions gnawing at him with relentless persistence.

A movement caught his attention.

Aiko, his classmate and next-door neighbor, was seated a few tables away. Her coffee sat untouched before her, her fingers drumming softly against the table's edge. Toshi had never spoken to her beyond the occasional polite nod, but now, something about her struck him as unusual.

She was staring out the window, her gaze fixed on the rooftop where he had seen the kiss. Her expression wasn't one of idle curiosity or casual interest—it was heavier. Her shoulders seemed to slump under an invisible weight, her lips pressed into a thin, pensive line.

Toshi followed her gaze, back to the rooftop. The two girls were still there, their kiss unbroken. He frowned, wondering, Why are they still there?

The bell rang, jolting him from his thoughts. He drained the last of his coffee and stood, making his way back to the classroom. The questions trailed behind him, refusing to be left behind.

The teacher walked in as the students settled into their seats, her voice cutting through the murmured conversations. "Settle down, everyone," she began, her tone carrying a rare note of intrigue. "Today, we'll discuss something… unconventional. Human relationships."

The room grew quiet, curiosity and confusion spreading in equal measure.

"It's the year 2184," the teacher continued, pacing slowly at the front of the room. "Relationships between boys and boys, or girls and girls, are the norm. But have you ever wondered… why? Why are humans different from other species? Take cats, for example—a male and a female cat get together to reproduce. The same goes for nearly every species on Earth. But humans… we're unique. Why?"

Toshi leaned forward, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

The teacher clasped her hands behind her back, her gaze scanning the room. "The answer lies in our technological advancements. As the most evolved species, we've eliminated the need for traditional childbirth. Painful. Messy. Unnecessary. The Genesis Cradle changed everything. But… What do you think about this? I'd like to hear your thoughts."

A tentative silence followed, before Toshi raised his hand.

"Yes, Toshi?"

He stood, his voice steady but laced with hesitation. "If relationships today are primarily between the same gender, then… how was it 100 or 200 years ago? And is it even possible to have cross-gender relationships?"

The teacher tilted her head thoughtfully. "That's a very good question. Unfortunately, it's difficult to answer. Records from that time are incomplete. Much of our history before the Genesis Cradle remains a mystery. We don't even know exactly when it was invented or by whom. As for cross-gender relationships…" She paused briefly before continuing. "To my knowledge, there's no evidence of such relationships in humans. And honestly, I don't see the need for them, given that childbirth is entirely managed through the LifeMatrix system nowadays."

Toshi nodded slowly, his thoughts swirling as he sank back into his seat. Nobody knows, huh…

The teacher moved on, but Toshi barely registered her words. The questions continued to swirl in his mind, unrelenting.

Why don't we know? What are we missing?

His gaze drifted back to the window, to the sakura trees swaying in the breeze. But this time, their delicate beauty offered no solace.