Prologue A Certain Boy’s Progress Report…?
How are you?
Fine.
Are you sick or injured?
Like I said, I’m fine.
Are you enjoying yourself?
More or less.
I’m having a great time.
Good for you. (Um, that’s not a question.)
Has anything happened recently that made you happy?
The modest pleasures of regular level-ups.
Aside from how happy you are to be adventuring with your mom, of course.
Suuuure. (Also, not a question.)
Is there anything you would like your mom to do?
Tone it down… Actually, no, I’m gonna catch up with her soon, so she’s fine.
Would you like her to clean your ears?
If the need arises, I may ask, sure, but…c’mon.
Would you like her to cut your hair?
Not the point.
Is there anywhere you’d like to go with her?
Look, is this…?
What would you like for dinner?
Meat’s good… Wait a sec! This survey is clearly…!
The full-dive game Masato was playing, MMMMMORPG (working title), was the beta version of an online game the Japanese government was planning to release.
Being government run meant all kinds of red tape. Test players were required to answer regular surveys. In return, they were excused from school, so as annoying as it was, Masato always filled them out.
This time was different, though. They were being waaay too obvious about it. How could he not notice?
“I mean, look at it! This is… Oh, it’s… I get it now.”
He’d managed to put some sort of answer down on each line, and he couldn’t exactly leave it hovering in front of him forever, so he reluctantly clicked the SUBMIT button and closed the window.
Then Masato turned and left his room at the inn. Time to investigate. Odds were high that survey came not from the government but from someone much closer to him…
…And that someone was waiting for him in the hall.
“Ma-kun, thanks for answering! I’m so happy! Hee-hee!”
It was Mamako. She had a pop-up window screen open in front of her and was happily reading the message on it. Believe it or not, she was Masato’s actual mother.
By all appearances, you would never imagine she had a son in high school—she looked far too young.
“Well, at least you fessed up quick! You sent that survey, right? I knew it!”
“Yes, I did! I mean, you always answer those, right? So I thought maybe I should send you something in a survey format!”
“It’s not the format I like! They’re mandatory!”
“Oh, I know. Hold on!”
Ignoring his protests, Mamako ran a finger across her screen, “Okay, send!” she said.
There was a beep, and Masato received a message. “Mm? What now?”
He opened the new message.
What kind of meat dish would you like?
A follow-up survey. What did he want? Steak? Burgers? Yakiniku and stew were both tempting, too…
Not the point!
“Mom! I’m standing right in front of you! You don’t need to send an e-mail!”
“That’s a good point. But…you took the trouble to teach me how to use it, so I want to make sure I actually do. Isn’t it lovely when parents and children stay in touch?”
“I’m not objecting to you using the messaging system in principle! My point is—”
“Oh, I know! Hold on.”
Mamako typed another message and sent it to him. Masato received another follow-up survey.
I’ll go out shopping for dinner soon.
Good…question?
“How am I supposed to answer that?! It’s not even a question! Why are you so stuck on this format?! Do you have it set to a survey template?! Or are you just accepting any format suggestions the thing throws at you? E-either way—!”
“That’s right! Let’s send each other messages all the time! Every time I send one, I get so excited wondering how you’ll answer! Hee-hee!”
“We can just use our words, though! I’ve already answered! I promise I’ll reply!”
Thank you!
“Noooooo!”
Mamako’s e-mails came straight from the heart. The resulting chaos was how things always went for them.
What mother wouldn’t want to relate to her beloved son using whatever new communication tool she’d learned of?
A new adventure awaited them both.
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