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Summary：
"Retrieve something from the boy." An agent from the future begins tailing a young elementary school boy as per the directive. After the boy leaves school, he heads into a game center. What seemed like an easy mission turns into a series of challenges!
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I am currently in Japan, in the year 2024.
Pulling up the collar of my trench coat, I shivered.
It's surprising that Japan has such a cold season.
Ah, I want a warm coffee.
Looking ahead from the shadows of an alley, I saw a playground through an iron gate. It's a place called "elementary school."
I took out an information device from my pocket to confirm my location.
This is the place.
The so-called dismissal time should be soon. Once the target appears, the chase begins.
I can feel my heart pumping harder. I don't dislike this excitement before starting a mission.
"Make sure to stay safe on your way home. There have been reports of strangers, so don't go alone," a female teacher, opening the gate with both hands, repeatedly told the children leaving in a line.
I checked the information device... In this era, it's disguised as a device called a smartphone. The screen displayed a young boy.
—Masaru Sato, eight years old.
A common name for this era. He belongs to the second grade.
Dozens of students have left, but the target is nowhere in sight.
Did I miss him?
Just as I thought that, the boy appeared, delayed.
He wore a thick down coat and carried something like a black backpack.
"Found you, Sato Masaru," I muttered under my breath.
"Masaru-kun, is your mom working again today? Are you okay by yourself?"
"Yes, after this, I have an English conversation class at a cram school. By the time it ends, it should be about time for my mom to come home."
A smart boy. The teacher couldn't help but smile at him, showing his white teeth.
—I won't be deceived.
After bidding farewell to the teacher with a wave, the boy started walking alone. I began to tail him, keeping a distance to avoid detection.
Checking the map on the information device, there's a shopping street and a station ahead.
After a quick confirmation of the information, I shifted my gaze back to the boy.
I've never failed. The missions I've completed easily number over 100.
The rewards have increased, but so have the difficulties of the missions. However, this time should be easy.
All I have to do is retrieve "a certain item" from a young boy. No need for a life-or-death struggle or an escape drama. Just put him to sleep in a place with few people around and erase his memory.
The technology of the future is truly excellent. It allows for time travel and even memory alteration. Such things are too much for the people of this era.
"Hey, where is it?"
I lost sight of the boy in a moment of distraction. Gone? Impossible. I reached the shopping street. The number of pedestrians has increased.
I quickened my pace to the point where I had lost sight of him, scanning the area.
Phew.
The boy was inside a store with flickering neon lights, beyond the glass of an automatic door. Below the store name, it read "Game Center."
I followed him into the game center while taking out the information device from my pocket to look up what "cram school" meant. As I thought, it wasn't the place he mentioned.
His words don't match up. Could he be... controlled?
The sound of cars, musical instruments, and piercing electronic noises were unpleasant. The youth seemed to be enjoying their games. I couldn't understand what was fun about it.
I searched for the boy. He was sitting in front of a display, enjoying a device that simulates car racing.
I hid behind a pillar to watch.
After a while, several boys and girls gathered behind him, starting to watch the race.
He must be quite skilled. That means... he won't move from this spot for a while.
This was a good opportunity to reconfirm the mission.
I operated the information device to open a message from an anonymous sender.
—The directive is as follows. Your destination is Tokyo, Japan, in the year 2024. You are to retrieve a certain item from a boy named Sato Masaru and bring it back to the future. The size and hiding place of the item are unknown. The nature of the item is confidential and cannot be disclosed. He should be keeping it safe. Track him down and find the hiding place. It could even change your destiny. This mission can only be assigned to a top agent. Good luck.
"I'm glad the message doesn't self-destruct... I remember such a phrase from a movie of this era."
Yet, "agent" is such a convenient term. In reality, we are nameless disposables. If we die during a mission, not even sympathy is spared. We just follow anonymous orders and carry out our missions. "Spy" might be a more appropriate term as seen in the movies of this era. The only merits are the high rewards and the excitement.
The boy moved on to a crane game, starting to play. He distributed the toys he won to the people around him.
Giving away something he won with his own money to strangers... Is this boy foolish?
I hacked into the elementary school's computer to check the boy's grades. Unexpectedly, he's in the top 10%.
Next, I checked his answers... I see. As I thought. This boy is "gifted." He possesses a natural ability that gives him a higher intelligence than what normal people can achieve through effort. My eyes can't be fooled.
The mistakes in his answers are all "intentional." To not seem unnatural, the errors are scattered. That, in itself, is unnatural. He's trying to hide his good grades.
Retrieving the target from this boy might be more difficult than anticipated.
I sensed movement out of the corner of my eye. The boy had finished with the crane game and was heading towards the exit of the game center.
Oops...
Right before the automatic door, the boy tripped and something slipped from his pocket.
"You dropped this."
A young woman nearby reached out for it.
"Don't touch it!"
The boy shouted, quickly picked it up, and hid it in his right pocket.
The woman muttered, "Whatever," and walked away with a frown.
—He put something in his pocket. It looked like a small box. Could that be the target?
Indeed, since leaving the school, he had been keeping his right hand in his pocket all the time. He even carefully zipped it up when playing the racing game.
There's no mistake.
He's been carrying the target in his right pocket, treating it with great care.
The boy stood up and left the store without thanking the woman.
Should I use the device's scanner to see what he's carrying? —No, too risky.
I had a hunch about the recovery target—"Time-Space Connection Shift Bomb." A devilish device created by the mad scientist Dr. Z. We've been pursuing Dr. Z, who intends to misuse the time machine.
The Time-Space Connection Shift Bomb is a device that changes the "connection destination" of time and space from the past to the future. If that happens, even if I try to return to my future, I might end up in a different era. Only Dr. Z knows the rules of connection. In other words, he could monopolize the ability to travel through time and space. It seemed the bomb had finally been completed. The activation conditions are unknown. There's also a risk that scanning with a sensor could activate the bomb.
The boy might be connected to Dr. Z.
Either way, it's best to retrieve it without using the sensor.
Walking through the shopping district, the boy seemed different from before. His steps were unsteady, and he seemed to falter.
Was it the flickering game screen that caused a temporary paralysis in his brain?
The boy staggered through the station's ticket gate. I followed.
Then, he clumsily climbed the stairs to the platform.
Is he ill?
It's none of my concern, I thought. But then...
The boy leaned back and fell backwards.
—Dangerous, he'll hit his head hard if he falls like this.
Unconsciously, I ran up the stairs. Before I knew it, I had caught him.
Several people stopped midway up the stairs but left for the platform without saying a word. Cold-hearted... But this is a big problem.
I've made direct contact with the target.
Should I consider myself lucky? This way, I can search his right pocket and retrieve the target.
"Ugh, ugh..."
The boy groaned, his face contorted, seemingly unconscious.
Reluctantly, I carried him in my arms down the stairs. Should I inform a station employee and have him taken to a hospital?
"Ah, mister. Thank you!"
The boy suddenly opened his eyes wide and stood up as if nothing had happened.
"Yeah, sometimes my consciousness fades. Dangerous, dangerous. I could've been sent to the hospital. Thank you for saving me."
The boy clasped his hands in front of him and bowed. I was stunned.
"Mister, I want to thank you for helping me."
"No... It was just the right thing to do."
I pulled up the collar of my trench coat and hid my face.
"Then, I can't settle down."
The boy looked at his watch, then smiled at me.
"I'm going to have dinner with my mom at a nearby Western-style restaurant. The hamburger steak is really delicious. Let's go together."
"No, I..."
While I was hesitating, the boy started pulling my hand, saying, "This way, this way."
—Well then. I'll go. I'll find a way to retrieve it at some point.
I decided to go along with the boy's suggestion.
* * *
The place I was brought to was a Western-style restaurant in the shopping district.
It had a hom
ely atmosphere, a popular store.
Why did the boy enter the station if he was supposed to meet his mother at this restaurant?
There's only one conclusion—He realized he was being followed.
This is the first time I've made such a mistake.
"Welcome... Oh, you're not with your mom today."
The person who greeted us was an elderly clerk, likely the manager, wearing an apron.
In addition to the counter, there were two tables for four.
"Is this spot okay?"
He sat neatly at one of the four-seater tables.
"Come on, you too."
The manager urged me.
The boy suddenly took out his smartphone and started operating it. Then, he frowned and muttered quietly, "Eh?"
"Mom's going to be late. I'm so hungry. Hey, mister. I want to eat a chocolate parfait. Can I order it?"
While sitting down, I glared at the boy from an angle invisible to the manager.
Don't get carried away.
Suppressing the urge to yell, I looked at the manager.
"Then, one chocolate parfait and, for me, a blend coffee."
After confirming the manager had returned to the kitchen, I glared sharply at the boy. However, he was once again operating his smartphone.
I took out my own device and checked his family structure.
His parents divorced five years ago. A single-parent family.
His mother works at a cosmetics company, 32 years old, a department manager.
Considering her age, it's a rapid promotion. The boy's intelligence must be inherited from his mother.
"Hey, mister. You have something you want to ask me, right?"
I looked up from the screen.
"Stop calling me mister. I'm the same age as your mother."
"Then, big brother. You've researched that far. As expected of an agent."
Agent! How does he know!!! Is he part of Dr. Z's gang!!!
Dr. Z is said to recruit people who agree with his ideas from various eras, especially those with high intelligence or physical abilities.
If the item in the boy's pocket is indeed the bomb, there's only one option. Cut off the surrounding dimensions and send them to subspace.
The information device is equipped with that function. My life would be over, but my comrades would be saved.
"What are you planning? Are you a minion of Dr. Z?"
I whispered so only the boy could hear, careful not to alert the surrounding people and cause trouble with the police.
"Dr. Z? Who's that? A B-grade SF villain?"
"Playing dumb, huh? Fine. I'll take you with me."
"Scary, scary. That's not very calm. Well, let me reveal my true identity. I am—"
Just then, the bell hanging on the door of the store made a high-pitched sound.
"Welcome!"
The shop owner called out from the back.
"Ah, Mom!"
The boy jumped up from his chair, made an innocent smile, and ran towards the woman. He jumped into her midsection and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Hey, hey, it's embarrassing in public. Really, such a spoiled child."
This boy... a spoiled child!?
"Who is this person?"
The woman pulled by the boy's hand. Our eyes met, and I felt a current run from my spine to my brain.
Her hair was softly waved, her eyes slightly upturned with intelligent, large pupils. Her face was smiling gently, but her gaze was clearly sizing me up.
Beautiful.
I was at a loss for words.
This has never happened before.
Due to my job as an agent, I prefer strong women.
There were many beautiful women in the future, but their beauty was artificial. In the future, cosmetic surgery is recognized as a right. I was sick of such artificial beauty.
But she is different. Natural strength and beauty.
"This gentleman, well—"
Interrupted by the boy's words, I remembered. I had saved the boy. He wanted to thank me... That was the flow.
"I saved him!!"
"Eh?"
The mother and I exclaimed in surprise.
—You saved me! The roles have been reversed! What does this boy want?
"Ah, ah. That's right, your son... um... saved me in a dangerous situation."
"The gentleman wanted to thank him, so he brought me here. Was that wrong?"
The boy looked pleadingly, his eyes moistening as if he were a professional child actor.
"So that's what happened. I had no idea there was such a situation. Then, let's hear about my son's heroic tale."
As the mother reached for the back of the chair, her handbag rang.
"Excuse me for a moment. Is it the company, I wonder."
The mother, hand in her bag, hurried outside. She probably thought it would be troublesome to talk inside the store.
This is a good opportunity.
I tensed my expression.
However
, the boy seemed unconcerned and showed me his smartphone, which displayed "in call"?
"I called Mom anonymously. I wanted us to talk alone."
The boy put the smartphone to his ear.
"A package arrived for you, and it was returned due to your absence. Please wait a moment while I check... and then, play an electronic tone. This will buy us a few minutes."
"Don't underestimate adults. I hate smart brats like you."
"Well, that's troublesome."
"Troublesome, you say?"
"Because, big brother, you might become my father."
"What!!!"
I slammed my hand on the table.
Ridiculous!
I admit the mother is a beautiful woman, but the idea of me being the father is absurd.
"Here, look at this. The email that arrived the day before yesterday."
I took the smartphone the boy offered.
"The following will affect your fate. I am an agent from the future who manages time and space. The day after tomorrow, wear a trench coat and follow me. Pretend to have something to attract my attention, then introduce me to your mother. To put it bluntly, I fell in love with your mother at first sight."
My eyes widened, and my mouth hung open in shock.
"Not part of Dr. Z's gang?"
"Who's that again?"
He didn't seem to be pretending. Which means...
"You passed, mister."
"Passed?"
"You saved me on the stairs. If you were the kind of person who would abandon me there, I couldn't have introduced you to Mom."
"You were testing me?"
I handed back the smartphone, and the boy smiled innocently, saying, "That's right."
"If I hadn't saved you, you would have been seriously injured."
If he had fallen from that angle on the stairs, it could have been life-threatening.
"You know, I'm not just smart, but I also have good reflexes. From that height, I could do a flip and land."
So, he's not only a genius in intellect but also in physical abilities. Extremely rare.
"Send a message now. To the past me and the future you. Mom's coming back."
"Ah... caught in a Möbius strip."
I sighed deeply.
Sending the message would set the future me in motion. Then, coming to the past and sending a message to the future again. An infinite loop, like the chicken or the egg dilemma.
"Want me to tell you? That's called 'fate'."
It seems I have no choice but to accept it. Falling in love at first sight is a first for me. It would be a shame to give up on her now.
While I was sending the message, the boy changed his voice to answer his mother's call, saying, "The delivery was a mistake," and hung up.
"Are you satisfied now?"
"The rest is up to you, big brother. My mom is beautiful but tough. Good luck. Oh, right."
The boy extended his hand. I thought he wanted a handshake and reached out my hand.
"No, no. Give me that device. I'll destroy it. If you continue this dangerous job as an agent, I can't introduce you to Mom."
Without the device, I can't return to the future. The boy knows this.
"Mom or the job, you have to choose one."
Right... Maybe it's time to quit this life-or-death job and start living a normal life.
Not a bad idea.
I handed over the device, but at the last moment, I pulled it back.
"There's a condition."
The boy frowned, surprised by my action.
"I hate you, but I acknowledge your abilities."
"So?"
"Become an agent when you grow up. I'll train you. When the time comes, I'll contact and recommend you. Until then, keep the device. What do you say?"
Agents are chronically short of personnel.
Despite recruiting activities in various eras, replenishment can't keep up. This boy has the necessary abilities, and he's wasting them.
"Um... Sure. Um... Okay, I'll take it. Sounds interesting."
I turned off the device's power and handed it to the boy.
I never imagined quitting as an agent at such a moment.
The boy took the device and then fumbled in his right pocket, pulling something out.
"Here, this."
What the boy placed on the table was a small white box. This was... the target to attract my attention?
"What's this?"
"My last support for you."
I opened the box.
Inside was a necklace. A thin metal chain with a cute decoration dangling from it.
"Mom loves four-leaf clovers. I'll say you saved my life. You said you wanted to thank me. I said, 'Then, since today is Mom's birthday, I want you to buy her a present.' How about that plot?"
The boy had prepared such a script.
It didn't look expensive. Was this the limit of his allowance, or did he think it was better not to give something too luxurious for the first present?
"Sorry, it was a wrong number..."
"Oh, Mom. Welcome back!"
I quickly hid the small box under the table.
"No, please, have a seat. You really have a wonderful son—"
Farewell, agent.
Farewell, exciting days.
No, this might be the beginning of a new challenge.
The end
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I am a Japanese novelist. The following story has been automatically translated from Japanese to English. Please be aware that there may be errors or inappropriate translations.
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