Earth Culture Investigator Starts to Write 'Kawaii Culture' in the Career Path Column

A Blank in the Career Path Column

In October of her first year of high school, a sheet of paper was placed on Mio Mochizuki's desk.

It was a paper titled "Career Path Survey."
A form for writing down things about the future, which had not yet taken shape, into several columns.
At the very top was the general path after graduation.
University, junior college, vocational school, employment, or other.
Below that was the department or field of interest.
Furthermore, there was a small space provided to write the reason for the choice.

All around the classroom, the tips of ballpoint pens began to move in unison.
Some were already writing down specific university names, while others were writing "Undecided" in large letters.
In the seat in front, someone was whispering, "I'm going into science," or "I'm torn between humanities."
Mio remained still, holding her pen.

Path after graduation—.

Her "after graduation" was much longer than the scale of an Earth high school.
As an artificial life form designed by aliens, Mio does not age.
Her sixteen-year-old body would show almost no change in appearance in ten or twenty years.
Even with medical examinations, no cellular degradation would likely be detected.
That is how she was designed.

However, that is not the topic here.
What is being asked for here is "three years from now."
Where and what will she be doing a few years after graduation?
Mio looked at the paper again.

Career Path Survey.
It seems that first-year high school students on Earth write these in October.
She already knew about that as data.
But when it was her turn to write it, the situation changed slightly.

Mio placed a small circle in the top column.

"University Enrollment (Four-Year)."

Her hand did not hesitate.
After graduating from high school, she wanted to go to some university.
There was indeed a part of her that felt that way.
She was an artificial life form, an investigator of Earth culture, and her mission was to live as a high school girl.
But recently, she had begun to think often about what would happen "after" that mission was finished.

She wanted to stay in Japan on Earth and continue living as a girl.

That thought was slightly outside the scope of her mission.
However, it was not a complete deviation.
Investigating Japanese high school girl culture.
As an extension of that, she could investigate Japanese university girl culture and the lifestyle culture of young Japanese women.
If she thought of it that way, it still seemed within the acceptable range.

There was just one major problem.
The fact that her sixteen-year-old appearance would not change.

Mio moved her eyes to the department/field column.

"Faculty of Letters / Humanities."

As far as she could tell from university brochures and online information, the humanities included various fields such as "culture," "representation," "language," and "gender."
All of them contained room to research the concept of "kawaii" (cute).
The "kawaii" used by Japanese girls.
Fashion, makeup, characters, gestures, language, symbols, and social media culture.
It was a particularly complex and ambiguous area even within Earth culture.

Science was off the list of options.

In the star of the protagonist, that is, the alien civilization that created Mio, scientific technology was already far more advanced than on Earth.
Laws of physics, information technology, biotechnology—.
Earth's scientific studies would only be a "reconfirmation" of what she already understood.
She could not simply output the knowledge embedded within her.
At the same time, pretending not to understand would be unnatural.

In the Faculty of Letters, there was still the unknown.
Human sensibility, the fluctuations of language, and the transition of values.
In particular, the "'kawaii' culture of Japanese girls" still lacked a clear outline even as data.
There was meaning in investigating that.
At the very least, that was what Mio thought.

Faculty of Letters.
Mio slowly wrote those words down.

The ink bled faintly on the career preference survey paper.

Family meeting, second time

That night, Mio spoke to her parents in the living room.

On the living room table, several discounted side dishes from the supermarket were lined up.
Fried chicken, potato salad, fried white fish.
They were things her mother had bought on her way home from her part-time job; they were a little cold, but if reheated, they would be perfectly fine as a side dish.
Her father was drinking beer.
The television was turned off.

"I was given the career preference survey."

Mio began calmly.

"Is it that time of year already?"

Her father set down his glass.
Her mother looked up, still holding her chopsticks.

"What did you write?"

"I wrote that I wish to go to university and study in the Faculty of Letters."

Mio answered honestly.
There was no need to hide it.
In fact, she wanted to talk about it with that as a premise.

"Faculty of Letters."

Her mother narrowed her eyes slightly.

"So not the sciences?"

"I already know most of the content in the sciences."

"...That's right."

Her father gave a wry smile.
For this family, the word "know" held a meaning that extended beyond the scope of Earth.
They were just living while pretending not to know, when in reality, they knew quite a lot.

"What do you want to do in the Faculty of Letters?"

Her mother's question was simple.

Mio spoke the words she had prepared in advance.

I want to research the 'kawaii' culture of Japanese girls.

Her father and mother froze at the same time.
A few seconds of silence.
Before long, they both started laughing almost simultaneously.

That's so Mio.
I didn't see that coming.

Mio tilted her head slightly.

Is it strange?

It's not strange.

Her mother put down her chopsticks and returned to a serious expression.

But it's just so like you.

I feel like it's the closest thing to your mission.

Her father nodded as well.

Kawaii culture is certainly at the center of Japanese girls' lives, isn't it?

Mio nodded quietly.

Yes. Clothing, behavior, photos, social media, merchandise—everything is related to 'kawaii.'
I believe deciphering that is useful for understanding Earth culture.

Her father took a sip of his beer before placing it on the table.

But there's a problem before that.

The tips of his chopsticks, placed in an inverted V shape, trembled slightly.

You're talking about wanting to stay on Earth like this, right?

Mio remained silent.
It was a valid question.
And she had already prepared the answer.

Yes. I would like to remain in Japan and live here as I am.

Mother inhaled, paused for a moment, and then exhaled.

"Mio."

The voice calling my name sounded a little more mature than usual.

"You are an artificial life form."

"Yes."

"You look like a sixteen-year-old Japanese girl, but you will remain in this form for years, even decades, without changing."

"Yes."

"That is unnatural."

Mother's voice was not accusatory. She was simply confirming a fact.

Father continued.

"Human high school students' appearances change when they turn twenty, and they continue to change as they reach thirty or forty, as is natural for their age. If your classmates grow up and you remain exactly as you are, it will likely look strange to others at some point."

Mio thought that was true. It was something she had already simulated for herself many times.

Suppose someone in the same class becomes a mother in the future. Suppose someone else moves to a different town. They get jobs, get married, and have children. If a classmate were to appear then with the same face they had ten years ago—

It would be unnatural.

It would be suspected. It would become a rumor. It would be investigated. The possibility of my true identity being exposed is high.

"I am aware of that point."

Mio said quietly.

"But, isn't there some way to manage it?"

Mother frowned slightly.

"Manage it?"

I want you to help me think of a way to stay on Earth even after my mission as a researcher is over.

I am not sure if the word 'pleading' fits, but Mio knew her voice had dropped just a little.

Her father and mother exchanged glances.

Her father crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. Her mother used her chopsticks to move one of the side dishes on the table, as if clearing it away.

I will talk about it during the next contact.

Her father said.

I will include that matter when I report back to the home planet.

I don't think there will be an answer right away, though.

Her mother nodded as well.

But it's better than not saying anything at all, right?

Mio gave a small nod.

Please.

And with that, the family meeting that night ended. No conclusion had been reached, but the promise to 'tell them' remained.

To Mio, even that felt like a small step forward.

Two-way interview with the homeroom teacher

In the middle of October, a two-way interview based on the career aspiration survey was held.

The classroom after school. One by one, students were called and sat in the chair placed in front of the teacher's desk. Outside the window, the setting sun was tilting slightly. Half of the writing on the blackboard had been erased, and the classroom was quieter than it was during the day.

When Mio was called, the homeroom teacher was checking her career aspiration form once more.

You're aiming for the Faculty of Letters, I see.

Yes.

Mio straightened her back as she sat in the chair.
She had already mastered the etiquette for interviews, both as data and through her daily life.

Her homeroom teacher was a man in his forties who usually taught mathematics.
He had slight laugh lines around his eyes and a gentle way of speaking.
He opened his mouth slowly while looking at her career aspiration form.

"With your grades, Mochizuki, it looks like you could aim for anywhere."

"Is that so?"

"Your test scores are consistent, and your level of understanding in class is high. Honestly, I think you could aim for any university. Not just in Japan, but universities overseas as well."

That was an expected assessment for Mio.
Using her processing power as an artificial life form, she could handle almost any entrance exam for universities on Earth.
Language was not an issue either.
She could already handle English, French, Chinese, Arabic, and other major languages.

But that was not the problem.

"What is the reason you chose the Faculty of Letters instead of the sciences?"

The teacher's question was direct.

Mio lowered her eyes for a moment before answering.

"The content of the sciences is mostly already known to me."

The teacher blinked.

"Already known?"

"Yes. I judged that there is little necessity to learn it at this point."

The teacher was silent for a few seconds, then gave a wry smile.

"...You don't find many first-year high school students who put it that way."

"Is that so?"

"Usually it's the opposite. People tend to think the sciences have more unknowns, and sometimes literature or the humanities are called 'useless'."

"Yes. I am aware of that."

"But for you, Mochizuki, the sciences are the ones that are 'all figured out'."

Yes.

The homeroom teacher looked at Mio with a hint of interest.
He could tell by her seriousness that she wasn't joking.
He had felt her high level of understanding not just from her test scores, but also from her daily attitude in class.

What do you want to do in the Faculty of Letters?

Mio took a moment to steady her breathing.
She had thought in advance about how much she should say here.

I want to research the 'kawaii' culture of Japanese girls.

The teacher's eyebrows rose slightly.
Then, they immediately returned to normal.
It was a face mixed with surprise, understanding, and a little bit of admiration.

You say interesting things again, don't you?

Is it interesting?

I think it's interesting.

The teacher continued speaking while taking notes on the paper.

In this day and age, 'kawaii' has become a keyword that relates not just to fashion, but to social media and pop culture as a whole. There are people who are researching it seriously, you know.

Yes. I have checked the literature.

As expected.

The teacher chuckled softly.

I think Mochizuki could go into the Faculty of Letters, cultural anthropology, or media studies.
However, there is one thing I want to ask.

What is it?

What do you want to do after you graduate from university?

Mio's response to that question was slightly delayed.

After graduating from university.
Researching 'kawaii culture' in the Faculty of Letters, and then what?
A way to remain on Earth has not been found yet.
Even if it is considered in the report to the home planet, I don't know what the result will be.

I haven't officially thought about it yet.

Mio answered that way.

"However, I do think I want to keep watching Earth's culture as it is."

The homeroom teacher looked into her eyes.

"Stay on Earth like this?"

"Yes."

"In Japan?"

"Yes."

He smiled just a little.

"I don't think that's bad."

"Is that so?"

"In today's world, there is anxiety wherever you go, and you can't know everything no matter where you are. Even so, having a place where you feel you 'want to keep watching' isn't bad."

Mio quietly accepted those words.

"Thank you."

The interview ended there.
A clear career path had not been decided.
However, 'I want to go to university,' 'I am interested in the literature department,' and 'I want to stay on Earth.'
Only those three things remained, both on paper and in words.

A step behind in communication

When she returned to the classroom, her friends asked about the results of the interview.

"How was it?"
"Did the teacher say anything?"

Mio thought for a moment before answering concisely.

"I was told I could go to any university."

"Well, that's true."
"Your grades are good."

I was asked what I would do in the Faculty of Letters.

What did you answer?

I said, 'I want to study cute culture.'

Her friends looked blank for a moment, then burst out laughing in unison.

I knew you'd go in that direction.
That's so Mio.
But it sounds interesting.

Mio observed their reactions.
The laughter was light.
But it wasn't a rejection.
It wasn't teasing, either.
Rather, it was accepted as being 'so her'.

That was important to Mio.

She can handle languages from all over the world.
English, French, Chinese—she has no problems with grammar or vocabulary.
However, in face-to-face conversations, she always lags by a beat.

It takes her a second to realize the intent behind a joke.
Sometimes she doesn't even realize that silence is a joke.
She needs time to line up several possibilities in her head to understand implicit understandings.

That one-beat delay held her back in various parts of her daily life.

On the other hand, the opposite sometimes happens.
She understands things that no one has put into words yet.
She almost verbalizes feelings that the other person cannot explain well.
But if she says it out loud, people are too surprised.

So Mio holds back a little.
She delays a little.
She pretends not to understand a little.
That is how she has gotten through her daily conversations.

To study 'cute culture,' she will likely need to do fieldwork.
Observing on-site, listening to people, conducting interviews, and drawing out inexpressible feelings.
At that time, her 'one-beat delay' might become an obstacle.

Communication is difficult.

On the way home, Mio muttered quietly.

The friend walking next to her looked up.

Did you say something?

No. Just talking to myself.

Is that so?

She didn't mind and continued talking about the limited-time sweets at the convenience store.
Mio listened to her and matched her pace.

Human communication is difficult.
I have already sent that report to the home planet many times.
But that is precisely where the value of the research lies.

Night records and a small joke

That night, Mio sat at her desk and recorded the day's events on her terminal.

Career aspiration survey.
Aspiring to the Faculty of Letters.
Researching cute culture.
The desire to remain on Earth.
Conversations with her parents.
The promise to report to the home planet.
A meeting with her homeroom teacher.
Being told she could go anywhere.
The slight delay in communication.

Finally, she added one line as a joke.

“It is possible to become a UFO researcher, but that is something I must absolutely never do.”

That sentence was displayed quietly on the terminal screen.
UFO researcher.
People who publish books claiming they can channel aliens.
Mio had seen such people as reference material several times.

The 'aliens' they speak of are sometimes romantic, sometimes eerie, and sometimes too convenient.
It is quite different from reality.
But no one tries to verify it seriously.
That, in itself, was a kind of culture.

“I cannot channel.”

Mio said in a small voice.

In truth, she communicates with the home planet regularly.
She exchanges information at fixed intervals with a base somewhere in the universe.
But that is not channeling.
It is just reporting and updating.

She can never tell Earthlings that.
If she were to say it, everything would change.
Her high school life, her research, her relationships with friends, and the career aspiration survey paper.

So, she does not talk about it.
So, she only writes it as a joke.

She closes the terminal screen.
Outside the window, autumn insects are chirping.
The night breeze was cool, and the air was clear.

Mio turned off the light in her room and lay down on the bed.
In the darkness, she looked up at the ceiling.
Even without closing her eyes, she could see the outlines once she got used to the dark.
The time spent in this room.
The days lived in this house.
The school she attended.
The friends she met.

She wanted to stay on Earth just like this.

That wish existed firmly, both as an extension of her mission and as a personal desire.

The conclusion is still far off.
She does not know what will be said in the next report to the home planet.
It might be permitted, or it might be rejected.
Another option might be presented.

But for now, it is still October of her first year of high school.

The career aspiration survey paper is in the hands of her homeroom teacher.
On it, only 'Faculty of Letters' is written.
Around those words, many things remain undecided.

Mio closed her eyes.

Outside, the wind was blowing.
The sound of insects continued.
A night like any other in the suburbs of Tokyo was simply there.

Perhaps a day will come when she is no longer on this planet.
Or perhaps she will change her form and remain in a way that no one notices.
That is still unknown.

The only thing certain is that at this very moment, she is a first-year high school student in Japan, thinking about her career aspiration survey.

For now, that was enough.