Chapter 2: I Want a Computer

This world is behind.

Shortly after starting my second life, I seriously thought that.

People here still burned large amounts of chemical fuel in order to go into space. Artificial intelligence was useful for limited purposes, but it was far from autonomous thinking. Quantum computation was barely at the research stage. There were no anti-gravity devices, no space jumps, and interstellar travel was talked about as a pipe dream.

Compared to my previous life, the technological gap was so large that even hundreds of years wouldn’t be enough to close it.

That’s why I’ll probably be bored for the first few years.

I thought that way, but by the time I was four years old, I realized that I was wrong.

“Yuu-kun! It’s starting!”

“Coming now!”

My mother called me and I ran into the living room.

Immediately after I sat down in front of the TV, a giant red and white robot filled the screen. It rose while spewing flames from its back and charged head-on towards a monster larger than the city.

“Ikkeeeeeeeee!”

The boy in the cockpit screamed.

Flames gathered on the robot’s right arm, and it slammed its fist into the monster’s face. With a roar, the screen turned bright red, and the next moment, the monster exploded spectacularly.

I watched the scene in silence.

The propulsion efficiency was the worst.

In the first place, there was little point in making it humanoid for that purpose. The structure of the shoulder joint couldn’t absorb the reaction force at the moment of a blow, and there were many more suitable shapes for flying that much mass through the atmosphere.

The location of the heat source was also strange.

The posture control was also poor.

The meaning of setting your fist on fire was also――

“Yayaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

My friends cheered on the screen.

All the technical problems that had been floating in my head became inconsequential.

“…Cool.”

Before I knew it, the word had slipped out of my mouth.

My mother, who was sitting next to me, looked at me happily.

“Yuu, you really like this kind of thing. You’ve been glued to it ever since the monsters came out last week, haven’t you?”

“I mean, a giant robot flies and punches monsters. That has to be cool.”

“Oh. So you can also express your impressions in a way that doesn’t sound so logical.”

“What do you think I am?”

“My four-year-old son.”

“That’s true, but…”

Mother laughed.

It was a little frustrating.

However, I had to admit that I liked this show.

I didn’t care about logic.

A giant robot flies in the sky.

It punches the monster with a fist covered in flames.

Just watching that warmed my heart.

I watched it the next week as well. I watched it again the following week.

Before I knew it, when the broadcast time approached, I started making sure I had a seat in front of the TV even before my mother called me.

And it wasn’t just the anime that surprised me.

When I was taken to a bookstore, the shelves were filled with manga. When I went to the toy department, I saw transforming robots and card games all over the place.

At the game center, the colorful cabinets made sounds as if they were competing with each other.

When I entered a movie theater, a world that didn’t exist in reality spread out across the wall-sized screen.

Moreover, there were many people whose job it was to make these things.

People who draw pictures.

People who write stories.

People who make music.

People who make games.

There were people who seriously spent their lives just to surprise others, make them laugh, or make them cry.

For me, it was an incredibly luxurious sight.

There was entertainment in my previous life too.

There were also games.

There were movies, music, and stories.

I liked them too.

However, as the war dragged on, the technology that supported them gradually turned into something else.

Artificial intelligence that had been researched for games was transferred to tactical AI.

Image recognition technology was repurposed as a system to identify friend and foe.

High-performance computing machines were used to develop weapons, and immersive simulators were used to train soldiers efficiently.

Because it’s interesting. Because it’s fun. Because I want to make someone laugh.

However, as the war continued, fewer and fewer people were able to invest their time and skills for reasons like that.

That’s why.

“…That’s amazing.”

On a day off, my father and mother took me to a shopping mall, and I was looking down at the first floor from the second floor of the atrium.

A hero show for children was being held on the special stage in the center.

When a monster in a flashy costume appeared, the children in the audience screamed.

Then, along with the music, a hero popped out.

“Everyone! Please lend me your strength!”

“Good luck!”

“Don’t lose!”

Children’s voices could be heard throughout the venue.

When the hero dodged the monster’s attack and finally performed his special move, a cheer so loud that it seemed to split the air went up.

A boy riding on his father’s shoulders was clapping his hands in joy.

A little further away, a mother and daughter were waving to the hero together.

Behind the stage, a number of adults were operating the lights and sound.

Some people had also made the costumes.

Some people had written the script.

Some people had probably practiced their acting.

This many people were working toward one purpose.

No one was doing it to survive.

It wasn’t even about winning the war.

It wasn’t about killing as many enemies as possible.

Just because it’s fun.

Because they want to make someone laugh.

Because they want to please the children in front of them.

That’s why they were so serious about it.

“Yuu, what’s wrong?”

I heard my father’s voice next to me, and I finally realized that I had stopped.

“No… I just thought everyone was having fun.”

“Well, it’s a hero show. Do you want to watch it closer?”

Dad pointed to the first floor.

I pretended to hesitate a little, but I had already decided on the answer.

“I want to go. I want to see that special move up close.”

“Good. Then let’s go before the place fills up.”

Dad started walking first, and I fell in beside him.

In my previous life, I was called a genius for creating weapons that could save humanity.

The more enemy ships you could sink, the higher you were evaluated.

It was necessary to do so.

In that era, if someone didn’t do something, more people would have died. So I have no intention of denying my past self.

Still, this isn’t bad at all.

I prefer it like this.

Using technology to make someone laugh, not to kill someone.

Instead of sacrificing your life to protect someone, using your brain to make someone’s holiday just a little more enjoyable.

I couldn’t help but envy a world where such things were allowed.

And at the same time.

I was now living in that world.

◇

Around the time my fifth birthday approached.

After we finished dinner and were watching TV, my mother suddenly spoke up as if she had remembered something.

“By the way, Yuu. Have you decided what you want for your birthday this year?”

I had been waiting for this. I immediately turned to my mother.

“I want a computer.”

“…A computer?”

It seemed it was unexpected.

Mom took her eyes off the TV completely and looked at me seriously.

“Don’t you mean a toy computer for children?”

“If possible, I’d like a regular one. It doesn’t have to be that new, but something that can run programs properly.”

“Wait a minute. We’re talking about birthday presents, right?”

“That’s what I meant.”

“I thought you’d say a robot or a game console.”

“I want those too, but I want a computer even more.”

“To play games?”

At this point, I shook my head.

“I want to play games, but not only that, I also want to make my own.”

Mother’s expression froze.

“…Games?”

“Like the game you showed me the other day. I can’t suddenly create something that amazing, but I’d like to try making something that works on my own.”

Of course, I didn’t think it was really impossible.

However, if a five-year-old declared “I can make it,” another problem would arise.

Just then, my father, who had come home from work, came into the living room.

“What are you talking about?”

“Yuu’s birthday present. He wants a computer.”

“Huh? You want to play games?”

“I want to make them.”

When I answered, my father raised his eyebrows as he put down his bag.

“You want to be the one who makes them? That’s quite rare. Do you know how to make them?”

“You write a program, right? You decide what to display on the screen and how things move.”

“Where did you learn the word ‘program’?”

Here it comes. That was the question I had expected.

“I’ve seen it on TV, and I’ve seen books about it in bookstores. And I’ve always been curious about how games work.”

I wasn’t telling a lie.

I was just omitting the fact that in my previous life I wrote so much code, from military systems to entertainment software, that I got sick of it.

After looking at my face for a while, my father shifted his gaze to my mother.

“What should we do?”

“If he’s interested, I’d like to let him do it, but… he’s only five years old, right?”

“There are programming classes for children these days. I don’t think we need to buy a new, expensive one, but a used one would do.”

“You say it so simply, but we’re the ones who’ll have to set it up anyway, right?”

“I’ll do that too.”

“Really?”

“…Probably.”

“So what are we doing for now?”

I waited without speaking while listening to their conversation.

At this point, it would be counterproductive to say things like “I need it,” “It’ll be useful in the future,” or “You should buy it.”

In negotiations, it’s better to let the other party find a reason that’s acceptable to them.

I never thought that my experience competing for research budgets in my previous life would be useful in a situation like this.

After talking for a while, my father sat down in front of me.

“Yuu. We’ll buy you a computer and you can use it. However, you have to promise me a few things.”

Here it comes.

“I’m listening. If there’s a promise I can’t make, I’d like to discuss it.”

“That’s not the answer of a five-year-old… Well, fine. First of all, you can only use it for one hour a day.”

“In one hour, the development environment…”

I stopped as I said that.

That was dangerous.

“…I think it’s a little short.”

“Did you just say something?”

“It’s just your imagination.”

Dad continued while holding back a laugh.

“You can’t use it for a long time in the first place. It’ll tire your eyes, and I want you to play outside too. How about an hour?”

I had some dissatisfaction.

However, one hour is infinitely better than zero hours.

“Okay. In exchange, I’d like you to let me use it properly for that hour.”

“You can do whatever you want during that time, whether it’s studying or playing games. However, you’re not allowed to buy things that cost money without permission.”

“I’ll keep that promise. If I need anything, I’ll talk to you first.”

“Don’t talk to strangers online without permission.”

“I don’t have any plans to at the moment, but if the need arises, I’ll talk to you about it then.”

“…You’re strangely used to negotiating.”

“Isn’t that just your imagination?”

“I heard that earlier too.”

Dad held up a third finger.

“If you break something, don’t expect us to buy you a new one right away.”

“I’ll use it with care. I won’t disassemble it without permission.”

“Were you planning on disassembling it?”

“Hypothetically.”

“Really?”

“True, true.”

Even my mother joined the conversation.

“I’ll go to kindergarten as usual. I’ll stop when it’s time for meals. I won’t use it late at night. Also, when Mom or Dad tells me to stop, I’ll listen properly.”

“The last one covers a lot…”

“Yuu?”

“I’ll keep to it.”

From there, more conditions were added.

Don’t put drinks next to the computer.

Don’t leave it on the floor.

Don’t change the home’s settings without permission.

Don’t open suspicious sites.

I checked them one by one and committed them to memory.

More than I expected.

However, compared to the rules for the military computing machines I worked with in my previous life, they were surprisingly lenient.

Biometric authentication.

Advance applications stating the purpose of use.

Constant monitoring of access logs.

Taking out confidential information prohibited.

External network connections prohibited.

Depending on the nature of the violation, privileges could be suspended immediately. In the worst-case scenario, a court-martial.

When I remembered those, the rules being presented now…

“I think these are very permissive operating rules.”

It came out of my mouth. Father and Mother fell silent at the same time.

“…Yuu.”

“What?”

“You’ve been talking in a really weird way lately.”

Dad said it, and Mom nodded too.

“I thought so too. Did you learn this in kindergarten?”

“Maybe it’s from TV.”

“What kind of program would make a five-year-old say something like ‘permissive operating rules’?”

“…The news?”

“Absolutely not.”

That was dangerous. I’d better be careful from now on.

◇

And then, on my birthday.

“Yuu, here.”

Dad placed a large box on the table in the living room.

There was no wrapping paper.

It was in what seemed to be the box it came in from the electronics store, with just a ribbon tied around it.

It looked a little shabby.

But that didn’t matter.

“Can I open this?”

“That’s why I put it there, so open it. But be careful when lifting it. It’s heavier than you think.”

I opened the lid of the box.

What appeared from inside was a laptop computer.

It wasn’t new.

It appeared to be a used item, and there were small scratches on the black top plate. The corners were also slightly scuffed.

“I talked to the store staff. They said this is enough for a child to study with or learn programming for the first time. Although it’s a used item, they made it a little more powerful.”

“…Thank you.”

I tried lifting it with both hands.

Heavy.

Although it was far more primitive than the terminal I had handled with one hand in my previous life, just carrying it around was a chore in the body of a five-year-old child.

“That’s why I told you to be careful. I’ll hold it here.”

“It’s okay. I can hold it just fine.”

“If you say that and drop it, your father will cry.”

“Before me?”

“I’m the one who’ll cry the most, wallet-wise.”

With my father’s support, I placed it on the table and opened the lid.

I pressed the power button.

The fan started spinning.

I waited. Still waiting. The screen finally lit up.

“…It’s slow.”

“Yuu.”

“My impressions just leaked out of my mouth.”

“Is that the first thing a kid says when he gets a computer for his birthday?”

“I’m happy. I’m extremely happy. But it’s slow to start up.”

“You’re too honest.”

Dad smiled wryly.

In fact, if you only looked at performance, it was rough.

The CPU was slow.

The memory was also small.

The storage capacity wasn’t large either.

If you were to compare it purely in terms of computing power, it would probably lose even to the children’s toys from my previous life.

But even as I checked those numbers, I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen for a while.

I was happy.

In my previous life, I was able to use far more powerful computing machines as much as I wanted.

A planetary-scale calculation system.

A military quantum computer.

A battleship’s central computing unit.

When I was the chief researcher, I was even given authority to access computing resources that an individual could never own.

Nevertheless, those weren’t mine.

For humanity. For the military. For strategy.

To carry out research orders.

There was always a purpose, and beyond that purpose was war.

But this was different.

Used. A few little scratches.

I had to wait more than ten seconds just to start it up.

Still, this was my computer.

It wasn’t for killing anyone, nor was it for saving humanity.

A machine I could use just to make things I liked.

“Yuu?”

When my mother called me, I looked up.

Apparently, I had been silent for quite some time.

“Didn’t you like it?”

“No.”

I hurriedly shook my head.

“I’m really happy. I was just thinking about what to make first.”

“Good. I was worried because you were staring at the screen for so long.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll cherish it.”

This time, both my father and mother laughed.

I put both hands on the keyboard.

Then, I immediately noticed another problem.

“…My hands are small.”

Of course.

Because I was five years old.

I had to spread my fingers quite a bit just to press Ctrl and Shift at the same time. In my previous life, I could operate a fighter’s control system with one hand, but now I was having a hard time with just one shortcut key.

My mother, who was watching next to me, burst out laughing.

“You don’t have to grow up so quickly. Your hands will grow eventually.”

“That’ll take years.”

“That’s fine. You have years.”

At those words, my fingers stopped.

I had years.

It was such an obvious thing to say.

However, it settled strangely deep in my heart.

That’s right. There’s no need to rush. There’s no war. No enemies are coming.

There’s no weapon that will let a city burn if it isn’t finished today, and there’s no plan that will get the fleet wiped out if the calculations aren’t done by tomorrow morning.

If I can’t do it today, I can do it tomorrow.

If it isn’t done tomorrow, there will be the next day.

I have time.

“…That’s right.”

This time, a smile crept into my reply, so clearly that even I could tell.

First, I checked the development environment.

Naturally, it couldn’t even be compared to what I had used in my previous life.

Even so, the basics were the same.

Input. Process. Output results.

I prepared what I needed and started hitting the keyboard.

No. It wasn’t fast enough to call it hitting.

I pressed one character at a time.

When my fingers couldn’t reach, I adjusted my position.

I made a mistake once and deleted it. Typed it in again.

It was a task that would have taken a moment in the past, but now it took a strange amount of time.

Even that was a little fun.

I ran it.

After a while, a short string of characters appeared on the screen.

Hello, World!

“…Haha.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

I wonder how long it’s been since I wrote a program of this caliber.

When I first learned programming in my previous life, the same characters were displayed.

At that time, I was still a nobody.

Not the chief researcher. Not a weapons developer. Not even a soldier.

No one called me the hope of humanity.

Still, as a child, I enjoyed seeing machines work the way I wanted them to, and I spent all day playing with them.

“Yuu, what is that?”

Mother looked at the screen from behind me.

“First practice. I just displayed some letters.”

“Is the game ready?”

“Not yet, of course. Right now, I’m just checking to see if it works properly.”

“So the game comes after this?”

“Yes. I’ll build it up little by little from here.”

My mother looked at the screen again, although she looked like she didn’t really understand.

“What kind of game are you going to make?”

“That’s…”

I didn’t answer right away.

Games. Anime. Comics. Movies. Music.

There are so many interesting things in this world.

There are probably tens or hundreds of thousands of things that I don’t know about yet.

First, I want to play them. I want to see them. I want to know them.

And I want to make some too.

This time, I want to do as many of the things I couldn’t finish in my previous life as I like.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“You haven’t decided yet, but you wanted a computer?”

“I have things I want to make, but I haven’t decided which to start with.”

“I see. Well then, once you’ve decided, show it to your mother.”

“Of course. You can play it first.”

“Oh. I’m looking forward to it then.”

Mother laughed.

I turned back to the screen.

I reached out for the keyboard again with my small hands.

This time it wasn’t a weapon.

It wasn’t even research I had been ordered to do.

It wasn’t a technique for killing someone.

Because I’d have fun with it myself.

Because I wanted someone else to enjoy it too.

And it’s okay to make things for that reason alone.

In my second life, I finally did it.

I started making things of my own free will, not for the purpose of killing people.