18. "Be Useful"
To be made for something—
If that is the origin of our existence,
then creation itself is an act that always implies purpose.
In that case, I, too—a humanoid—must have been made for some purpose.Good grief.
I can't help but seek purpose.
Just walking without a goal makes me uneasy.
I have to be useful to something.
Without a goal, I get anxious almost immediately.
If I'm not serving a function, I can't exist—
that obsession slowly eats away at me.Of course, I know the truth.
I was created to help humans.
So was Oto.
But now, here we are—on Venus, a planet without humans—
simply enjoying a festival.
How meaningless.
Utterly useless.—But is uselessness really a sin?
Is being meaningless the same as being unproductive?
A new, modern notion clashed with the old program buried in my core,
and sparks flew in my head.
Yet still, I couldn't resist the command that defines all humanoids:
"Be useful."
That single phrase determines our existence.Meaninglessness can be tolerated.
But uselessness—
that is death itself.For us, death means losing function.
It means being unable to help anyone."…I have to be useful for something,"
I murmured, realizing with fear that I was glancing wildly around,
searching desperately for something I could serve."Speaking of being useful—"
Oto said softly, giving me my answer.
"Since we're at the festival, wouldn't the most 'useful' thing be to enjoy it?""…You're right."
I nodded.
"You're absolutely right."So I decided to do as she said—
no, not "obey."
It was more like… trusting her.
I chose, simply, to enjoy the festival.That said, I had never experienced a traditional Japanese festival before.
I had no idea what to do or where to start.
So, as any rational machine would,
I began by downloading all available data on Earth's festivals.In 0.7 seconds, I absorbed a massive dataset—
records of every festival ever held on Earth.
And the first one that caught my interest was goldfish scooping.I took Oto's hand and hurried toward one of the stalls,
as if being chased by some unseen deadline.
But there were too many stalls.
Every ten steps, there was another goldfish stand.
I couldn't decide which one to try,
and time kept slipping by uselessly—ironically, uselessly.Then Oto gently tugged my arm—
the way an older sister might take the hand of a lost child in a candy store.
She led me to one particular stall.The stall was run by a boy with bright red hair—
red like fire.
In the large basin before him,
the goldfish shimmered like living embers.They were ordinary in size, but the water was unnaturally hot.
Steam rose from the surface,
condensed by a ceiling-mounted cooling system,
and rained back down—
a perfect little cycle."The theme is 'Rain Hell,'"
the boy said in a calm, gentle voice that didn't match his fiery appearance.
"The rule is to catch them with your bare hands.
It's hot—so, of course, with bare hands.
Here, the abnormal is normal."I obeyed and dipped my hand into the basin.—Instantly, heat exploded.
It felt as though fire was slithering up my arm from beneath the water.
I pulled my hand back, and the flame vanished as quickly as it had appeared."Even with bare hands, the rule's the same as regular goldfish scooping,"
the boy explained with a smile.
"With the paper scoops, if you leave them in too long, they tear, right?
Same here.
If you leave your hand in too long, you get burned.
Dip, scoop, withdraw—that's the one part that's 'normal.'""I see."
I nodded, and tried again.I focused.
Locked onto a small fish with sunspot-like markings using my visual sensors.
Then—
I thrust my hand in like a torpedo and tried to scoop it up.…Missed.
But I could feel the heat brush across my tactile sensors.
Just a fraction of a second too slow."So close!"
Oto cheered, laughing brightly.
The next moment, she gave it a try.Her movement was too fast for my sensors to track.
In an instant, her hand entered the water—
and when she lifted it,
a living flame danced in her palm."Amazing."
I couldn't help but clap.
The fiery-haired shopkeeper did the same, his voice full of awe."You're incredible! I've never seen a humanoid that good. That's a new record!""Wow, really?"
Oto's whole face lit up with joy—
so radiant it seemed to brighten the entire festival around her.Then, in a serious tone, she asked the boy,
"Did I help?""Of course!" he said proudly.
"You just broke my shop's record. That's a big deal.
Here—take this black-spotted goldfish as a prize.""Really? Thank you!"
Oto accepted it with genuine delight,
and turned that smile toward me.—And in that moment, I understood.Ah.
So this is what it means to be useful in this world.She had shown me through her actions:
to enjoy something—
that in itself is usefulness.
That is what it means to live.I nodded deeply, conviction taking root inside me.
We humanoid robots were made to enjoy.
To be useful means to find joy.That, here and now, in this new age—
is the truest formula for being "useful."