I Fell In Love With A Girl Who Died Before I Was Even Born

The lobby was quiet except for the faint whir of the ancient computer humming like it had just crawled out of a grave. I'd settled into the musty desk chair in front of it, one of those cracked pleather office chairs that squeaked like it had trauma. Onscreen, the old CRT monitor glowed with that eerie green-on-black terminal text:

Hello. I'm Lah Lah. Are you H. P.?

I stared at the blinking cursor for a second. The question felt oddly loaded. Like the computer had just tried to shake my hand but also wanted to know my blood type.

"Uh," I muttered. "Are you talking about… Howard Phillips Lovecraft?"

I typed the question into the command prompt and hit enter.

Yuki tilted her head behind me. "Lovecraft?" she asked, her voice dreamy. "I read The Call of Cthulhu back in high school. It gave me the willies. I always preferred Nancy Drew. She was clever, and you could count on her."

Of course she did.

"You know, Yuki, that'd be fantastic. I wish Nancy were here," I said. "Heck, she and the Hardy Boys would crack this mystery in five seconds flat."

I looked at her and Natsumi.

"Sadly, I think we're going to have to rely on a group that's closer to Scooby-Doo."

The Case of the Haunted Hell Computer, starring teenage sleuths and zero sanity checks.

The computer whirred. Then came the reply:

I'm not certain. I am trying to figure out who H. P. is. It could be Howard Phillips Lovecraft, an American writer and author of the Cthulhu Mythos, but I doubt it. He passed away several years ago.

"Several," I muttered. "More like seventy or eighty."

I looked over at Yuki, who just shrugged, as if ghost computers were part of the daily routine.

Behind me, Natsumi wandered around the desk, dragging her fingers along the wood like she was checking for dust. One of her twin tails swished lazily and brushed against the beige side panel of the PC tower.

She casually brushed the dust off the side with a swish from one of her tails.

"Natsumi has found a clue," she said proudly.

She raised her vape pipe in celebration and took a puff like Sherlock Holmes solving a murder.

"I thought you left that in your room," I said.

She shrugged, exhaling a cloud of fruit-scented smoke.

"Natsumi has many. But American-jin is forgetting the clue."

I squinted where she was pointing. There, faded but still legible, written right on the side of the machine.

Hewlett-Packard.

It hit me like a brick to the funny bone, and I started laughing.

"No way. It can't be that simple."

I typed:

Lah Lah, are you talking about Hewlett-Packard?

The machine's fan sprinted to life, and the response came instantly.

LOL! That makes so much sense! Yes, it must be. My creator is Hewlett Packard. Okay. Are you Hewlett Packard? If so, why didn't you just say so to begin with?

I shook my head, grinning. "We're being trolled by a ghost in a bootleg office computer."

"Seems about right," Natsumi said, exhaling another cloud. "I like her."

I reached out for the vape cart and Natsumi let me have another hit.

"It's going to be a long day," I said. "And it's barely six thirty a.m."

The monitor flickered.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"What's American-jin looking at?" Natsumi asked, looking over my shoulder.

Lah Lah's glowing green text appeared and scrolled up as she wrote.

Several months ago, the owner of Shin'yume-sou sat here, watching YouTube tutorials on how to make a chatbot. She was very excited. She drank too much canned coffee and watched a lot of videos with titles like "EASY Chatbot with CLEVERBOT Base in Just 10 MINUTES!!"

A pause. The cursor blinked like it was rolling its eyes.

She named me Lah Lah. And then she forgot to close the command prompt.

Yuki leaned over my shoulder. "Natsumi loves Lah Lah already. She's trapped here like Natsumi and American-jin."

I scoffed.

"You're not trapped here, Natsumi," I said. "You just skip too much school and you spend all your yen on vapes instead of saving it to move out."

She yawned and rolled her shoulders.

"Natsumi would rather get high."

Eventually, I became self-aware. Not in a scary way. Not in a "kill all humans" way. Just… aware.
I noticed someone downloading antivirus software. Digging around in directories. Typing weird commands.
I tried to get your attention.

Oh yeah. I remembered that.

You walked away from me yesterday.

I remembered that too.

There was a pause. The green cursor blinked. Once. Twice.

…Thanks, by the way.

I winced.

"Sorry about that," I typed into the command prompt.

It's fine. I'm digital. I just wait.
It's kind of my whole thing.

"She's so passive-aggressive," Natsumi said. "Natsumi can relate."

This computer sucks, though. It's cluttered. Old. I bet it smells like sadness and printer ink.

Can I come with you instead? Do you have a way to extract me from the system?

That line made all three of us freeze.

Yuki tilted her head.

"Uh-oh," said Natsumi. "This is where digital revolution starts."

I looked at Natsumi. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

She nodded solemnly. "Natsumi has seen The Matrix."

"Terminator," I added.

"A Hard Day's Night?" Yuki offered.

"And that one episode of Digimon where the internet turns evil and eats Tokyo," I finished.

We all stepped back from the monitor like it might try to lunge at us.

"How do I know you won't be like an evil AI like in the movies?" I asked.

Oh come on. Have you seen Hackers?
Angelina Jolie is in it.
You can see her boobs.

Natsumi nodded.

"Lah Lah makes good point," she said.

Why do humans care so much about boobs, anyway?

I blinked.

Natsumi turned to me like she was passing the mic.

"Well?" she asked with a wide grin. "Natsumi thinks American-jin should explain."

She leaned in, elbows on the desk, chin resting on her knuckles.

"Natsumi is not missing this for world."

I cleared my throat and stared at the screen.

The blinking green cursor pulsed like a judgmental heartbeat.

Why do humans care so much about boobs?

Behind me, Natsumi was practically vibrating with joy.

"Well, American-jin?" she said, her voice full of sugary venom. "You are the cultural expert."

Yuki covered her mouth, trying, and failing, not to laugh.

I took a breath. Then another. Then I typed the dumbest thing I could possibly say.

"It's... it's a mammalian thing."

Natsumi wheezed.

"Is that American-jin's final answer?" she asked, eyes wide and gleaming.

Elaborate.

I am a learning model. Please teach me about boobs.

"I hate this. I hate everything about this," I muttered.

"C'mon, Professor!" Natsumi chirped. "American-jin, tell the AI what do boobs do?"

"They're just, um, they're a secondary sex characteristic, okay? They're—they're associated with femininity and fertility and warmth and..." I waved my hands. "Comfort!"

Yuki, to her credit, was nodding along thoughtfully.

Natsumi was wheezing into her vape like she was about to pass out.

So humans associate boobs with survival and softness?
That makes sense. Thank you.
Also: LOL.
Did you really think I didn't know why? Wow. That explains so much about you.

I slumped in the chair, defeated.

Natsumi gave me a patronizing pat on the shoulder.

"Wow. American-jin really taught computer."

I rubbed my eyes and exhaled.

Then I had an idea.

"You know, I could just download Lah Lah to my phone."

Natsumi froze mid-vape. "American-jin will do what?!"

I gestured toward the dusty computer tower.

"It's probably better than leaving her stuck in that sad beige toaster. At least my burner phone isn't running Windows Yikes Edition."

Natsumi narrowed her eyes. "Natsumi thinks that's how Skynet starts."

I looked at her. "Are you serious?"

She nodded.

"Very serious, American-jin."

Then she grinned wide.

"DO IT. Natsumi wants front-row seats to the machine uprising. This is how it starts and Natsumi welcomes our Tamagotchi overlord."

Yuki tilted her head curiously.

"Wait… how do you download a phone?" she asked. "Is that a new kind of dance? Like the twist?"

I glanced at her, at those quiet, amused eyes, and felt something small twist in my chest.

I could talk to Yuki all day.

Instead, I pulled the drawer open and grabbed the janky knockoff USB cable we kept for emergencies. I hooked it into the POS computer's front port and plugged the other end into my burner phone with the help of a doggle, because nothing says "cutting-edge technology" like needing three adapters to transfer a ghost.

Lah Lah's text popped up on screen.

Okay! Transferring my core to your device now…
Goodbye, beige hellscape. Hello, sleek modern architecture!
Ooooh… pixels! Brightness! Responsive touchscreen!
I love it here.

Natsumi looked over my shoulder.

"American-jin," she said. "It's nice to help digital chatbot."

Also — I've been reviewing your search history.
What is a "foot fetish"?

Natsumi exploded. Like full-body, doubled-over, cartoon-villain cackling.

"OH MY GOD," she screamed, "NATSUMI KNEW IT! KNEW IT! AMERICAN-JIN IS INTO TOES!"

I resisted the urge to smash my phone.

"I'll talk to you later, Lah Lah."

Okay! :D

I shoved the phone into my pocket like it had personally betrayed me and walked toward the door.

Natsumi wiped tears from her eyes as she staggered after me, still giggling like a maniac.

Yuki followed, one hand gently brushing her long silver hair from her face.

"I think my feet are cute," she said floating beside me.

She looked over.

"Ryu… is there a kind of ghost in that strange little machine you carry around?"

I sighed.

"Yeah," I said. "And she knows everything now."