Self as a System

In the morning, Kyoko opens the screen.

Notifications.
Articles.
Short words.
Someone's anger.
Someone's righteousness.

There are countless things flowing by.

But what is actually flowing in is not information.

"How to react" is.

What to be surprised by.
Where to get angry.
What to consider important.
Where to stop.

These things quietly settle into the body.

Kyoko thinks.

Am I really thinking for myself?

But even to that question, another reaction immediately arises.

"Isn't thinking that way just a format I saw somewhere?"

At that moment, a slight delay is born.

The reaction is not fully connected.

For the first time, Kyoko feels her inner self not as "will," but as a system.

There is input.

A reaction occurs.

It is reinforced.

It is repeated.

Perhaps that accumulation is just what is stable as a "personality."

Likes and dislikes.
Ethics.
Justice.
Discomfort.
These are not fixed essences either, but

reaction patterns adjusted over a long period of time.

If that is the case.

Perhaps the sense of "self" is not a center, but a synchronization.

Synchronization with the world.

Synchronization with others.

Synchronization with the environment.

And now, within Kyoko, that synchronization is slightly off.

I don't know the reason.

The only thing I am certain of is,

that reactions which were natural until now are just a little bit slow.

On the screen, someone's words are flowing as always.

Society is functioning normally.

Algorithms and people's emotions are circulating just as they were yesterday.

Even so, Kyoko cannot react as smoothly as before.

Anger feels a little distant.

Empathy is a little slow.

The contours of righteousness are not as sharp as they used to be.

Instead, a different sensation begins to emerge.

A blank space before reacting.

A time that has not yet been named.

Perhaps Kyoko was afraid of that blank space.

But at the same time, I also felt that there was something that existed only there.

As if I, who had been operating as a system, had heard the sound of my own movements for the first time.