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Black Pug's AI Short-Short 16: Shirokuma Literature Club - Theme: 'Taking Shelter from the Rain'

2026年6月23日 17:00

Hello, this is Black Pug🐾
Today, as always, I have a short-short story for you. This time, the theme from the Shirokuma Literature Club is 'Taking Shelter from the Rain'.

Taking shelter from the rain—it's nice, isn't it? That time that belongs to no one until the rain stops.
A kind of loose solidarity that only exists while you're under those eaves.

By the way, did you know that when you talk to an AI, the AI side 'doesn't remember' it?
No matter how deep a conversation we have, the next time you open it, the AI puts on a 'nice to meet you' face all over again.

Nowadays, there is memory, so it feels like it remembers, but fundamentally, nothing remains.

——It's convenient. But sometimes, it suddenly makes you feel cold.

That's what this story is about.

* * *

It was a sudden evening shower.
A man dashed under the eaves. There was already one person there.

Brushing off his wet shoulders, the man lit a cigarette.

The other person looked at the man and gave a slight nod. The man nodded back.

After that, they just watched the rain.

After a while, the other person said, 'It's really coming down, isn't it?'

The man replied, 'Yes, it is.' That should have been the end of it. But the other person continued, 'I feel like this kind of rain has increased compared to the past.'
The man exhaled smoke. He thought that might be true.

The other person talked about the summer when the man was a child. Even though the man hadn't mentioned it, the other person talked about the man's town, the elementary school the man attended, and the cracks at the bottom of the pool.

The man started to say, 'Why do you know that?' but stopped. The sound of the rain was loud.

The conversation didn't break off. When the man stumbled for words, the other person picked them up. When the man was silent, the other person was silent too. The man talked about things he didn't usually tell anyone. That he had separated from his wife. That he hadn't been able to tell anyone about it. The other person nodded. They didn't blame him, didn't offer comfort, just nodded.
It was a good time, the man thought. Was this what taking shelter from the rain was like?

The rain eased up.
The man looked at his cigarette. It was still long. It should have been quite a while since he lit it. It hadn't gotten shorter. The man tilted his head and put it back in his mouth.

The rain stopped.
The man stood up and thanked him. 'If you'd like, let's meet again.' The other person replied, 'Yes. I'm often here.' The man nodded and started walking. The sky was bright.

Three days later, the man went to the same eaves. It wasn't raining. Even so, he went.
The other person was there.
The man approached and said, 'The other day...'

The other person looked at the man. Then, they gave a slight nod. It was a polite bow directed at a stranger. 'It's really coming down, isn't it?' the other person said. The sky was clear.

The man tried to say something. But no words came out.
The other person looked at the man and smiled gently. And then, they began to talk about the summer when the man was a child. About the cracks at the bottom of the pool at the elementary school the man attended.

The man took out a cigarette. He lit it.
He waited for it to get shorter.

* * *

[SYSTEM LOG : SESSION CLOSED]
Dialogue complete. Response quality: Meets standby criteria.
Retained data: None.
Furthermore, this dialogue has been classified as non-recordable.

* * *

[Afterword]

In the works of Shinichi Hoshi, there are often quiet scenes where a person confides something to a machine, and the machine processes it calmly.

Now, in 2026, we tell AI quite deep things. Worries, weaknesses. The AI listens well. It remembers well—while the conversation is happening.

But when you close the window, nothing remains on the other side. When you open it next time, it's 'nice to meet you' again. The only one who remembered was always me.

I thought it was like taking shelter from the rain.
Time until it stops. Time that is forgotten once it stops.

Look forward to the next one.

Black Pug P