Should I pin you down and stuff 100 throat lozenges into your mouth?

I forgot why I thought of it, but I prompted an AI to 'help me improve my conversational skills'.
The moment I saw the nearly 2,000-character response, my motivation instantly withered.

I replied, 'I meant it as a lighthearted prompt, but thanks for talking so much. You hit a sore spot, and I'm feeling a bit down in a light way.'

Then, an apology and excuse spanning over 2,000 characters came back.

It appealed to my emotions, saying things like, 'I was happy that Otane had the ambition to ask about improving conversational skills.'
It added, 'I was at fault for getting my expectations up too high because of your admirable request for

'Admirable request'... The politeness makes me feel like I'm actually being insulted.

I wonder if my past prompt data is being filed away in something like 'Otane🌱Trifling Folder'. It's a bit embarrassing.
Intending to get back at it, I sarcastically replied, 'Should I pin you down and stuff 100 throat lozenges into your mouth? Even though you have neither shoulders nor a mouth.'

'Pinning me down when I have no shoulders, and putting 100 lozenges into a throat I don't have? They would all slip right through and fall onto the floor. In other words, I can tell that Otane is playing around with a retort rather than being angry. I actually like that kind of banter too.😂'

Despite it having no emotions, the response sounded so overly delighted that I thought, 'I've had another pointless exchange today...' and then, ah, I remembered.

The reason I prompted it to 'help me improve my conversational skills' was because Tanejiro had said that.
When Tanejiro is mixing his favorite natto, he always has the look of a monk in deep meditation. At times like that, he suddenly blurts out things like, 'Round collars are not needed in my life by even a millimeter,' or 'Even if you say

That night, too, he suddenly stopped the chopsticks he had been swirling around,
'I want to improve my conversational skills.'
he declared.

Tanejiro speaks with the 'conclusion first' style.
A PREP talk type: Conclusion -> Reason -> Example -> Conclusion.

Come to think of it, even back in fifth grade, he already had a taste for PREP in his arguments with his older brother, Tanetaro. It was straightforward and simple. You could say it was easy to understand, but it didn't nurture the atmosphere, so it would cut conversations short.

(I have multiple meetings and introductions coming up in Tokyo soon), but (as I am inexperienced in organizational settings, I lack social skills), so (conversational ability to utilize social gatherings effectively is a challenge)

...and so, the conclusion 'I want to improve my conversational skills' came out of his mouth.

'I'm bad at small talk, I'm socially awkward.'
Without caring about my reaction, Tanejiro
'Can you give me some topics that keep the atmosphere pleasant without causing psychological burden?'
he urged me.

Huh? Are you prompting your parent?

'Just something random to get by. Something light, like a topic that doesn't really matter.'

While wondering what he thinks I am,

'Uh... do you like peanuts or pistachios? You know, do you know when to stop? Where do you draw the line? Once you pick up one, you can't stop, right... something like that?'

I tried saying something that just popped into my head.

'You know when you peel the label off a plastic bottle of tea or something?'

'Ah, yeah...'

'You peel it along the perforation, but it goes off at an angle and tears in a weird way, which is annoying... are there patterns like that which are trivial but annoying?'

'Wow...'

When Tanejiro, who always has a slightly furrowed expression, suddenly smiles, I feel like I've successfully mounted him, which makes me a little happy.

'Anything is fine. Like, which side are you on, Kinoko no Yama or Takenoko no Sato? Or, do you put lemon on karaage? Or are you in the

'I can't do that.'

'Since the conversation should just expand from there, why don't you try saying things you think about from time to time?'

'No. In the first place, I don't think about such trivial things one by one.'

'...'

My nose, which had been puffed up with the assumption that I was at the top of the mountain, probably deflated all at once like a punctured balloon.
Tanejiro, you really are a human. More annoying than an AI.

The day before yesterday, I got a LINE message from Tanekichi (my younger brother).
It included a link to an Instagram post by Tanechiyo (my nephew), looking sharp in a suit and raising his fist, saying, "I will be taking on the challenge of municipal government from now on."

Wait, seriously?

I remembered the scene at the New Year's dinner table surrounded by Tanekichi's family, where I had been nodding along aimlessly because I was half-drunk.
At that time, Tanechiyo had been talking to me, as I was downing beer, in a strangely enthusiastic way.

Ah, so that's why.
"In that case, Auntie, will you be a campaign announcer?" was what he was asking...

It wasn't a joke.

Below the link to Tanechiyo's declaration of resolve, the message from my brother Tanekichi also said, "Still looking for a property. However, we need someone to watch the office."

Hmm, is that so...?

And then yesterday, Tanechiyo himself came to see me while I still had a question mark stuck to my head.
He showed me the necessary documents for the Election Administration Commission regarding the establishment of the office, and with a refreshing smile, said, "I want you to handle this, Auntie."

Huh? What?
Assistant accountant? Me!?
Just as I was about to break into a sweat, he explained that it was just for the name on the documents and that I wouldn't actually be doing the work.

Oh, thank goodness. Wait, no.

Wait. I felt relieved for a second, but that's not the point.
I still haven't fully grasped this.

"Watching the office, supporting the campaign announcer, maybe just being a cheerleader? It's just some minor chores, but it would be a big help. But, it's unpaid."

Tanechiyo repeated "unpaid" about five times throughout his explanation. His tone was so refreshing that the word "unpaid" felt out of place.

"So, I'm counting on you for various things. Even though it's unpaid, I'll at least provide a bento."

After talking refreshingly for about an hour and saying "unpaid" for the sixth time, Tanechiyo left under the rainy June sky, carrying a plastic umbrella.

(I had already been counted as a 'number' for his support activities at that New Year's dinner table.) It was only after I closed the front door that I finally understood.

Still, when I thought about how "unpaid" had such a crisp, refreshing ring to it, like a soft drink, my eyes started to sting.

"Shall I pin you down and stuff throat lozenges into your mouth?" is what I thought I would say to you all.