Editing Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 15

==Day Fifteen==

	In the monochrome world where the sky and earth lost all color, I went back and forth at the construction site today as well. From the gut to the intestines, the intestines to the gut.

	Going back and forth in a place like this for a thousand eight hundred and twelve times, I would see my ‘colleagues’ even if I don’t want to. As the time passes, their gray silhouettes that were like steel specters were stacked up higher and higher in my empty heart. Like an uninhabited room that gathered dust.

	Apart from that, because of the sad nature of robots, after I arranged my data, I formed a conclusion.

	The details are as follows.

	- '''Total number of labor robots'''	…… 110

	* Only the robots carrying the materials between the gut and the intestines are counted.

	- '''Category A (Height) '''

	Below one meter					…… 23

	Above one meter, below two meters  …… 81

	Two meters and above				……. 6

	- '''Category B (Type)'''

	Made from junk parts				…… 93

	Second-hand robots				…… 17

	* Judged from appearance.

	- '''Category C (Movement System of Lower Body)'''

	Continuous tracks					…… 82

	Four legs							…… 26

	Two legs							…… 2

	At first, they were just numbers without any meaning or emotions.

	But for me, the latter numbers— especially the ‘two legs ……2’ in category C, meaning was rapidly born in me.

	They are numbers Fifteen and Thirty-Eight.

	— Who are they?

	While moving the waste materials, I adjust the angle of my lenses.

	My vision first stop on the huge robot that had both height and width of over two meters— identification number ‘Fifteen’.

	Powerful limbs grew from his gray body that was like a barrel. Only his feet were black like he was wearing boots. His humongous body would make him eye-catching anywhere.

	Number Fifteen has overwhelming strength, he could easily use his arms to lift waste materials weighing a few hundred kilograms. He strode in the construction site today as well. As a two legs-type, his footprints that were like footprints of elephants formed numerous pits. My colleagues and I would trip on these pits at least three times a day.

	There is another person that I am concerned of.

	Her.

	That’s right, not him, but her. The other two legs-type robot— identification number ‘Thirty-Eight’.

	She is taller than me for about two heads, and is about a hundred and forty centimeters by my estimation. She wore work clothes like those of carpenters, and her long hair tied with a ribbon hangs in front of her right shoulder. With an energetic stride, she carried the waste materials and went back and forth in the construction site today as well.

	Among the hundred over robots, nobody else looks more like a human than her. Her body was not pieced together by junk parts. Her limbs and her body seem to be unique parts.

	In addition, the young girl robot – number Thirty-Eight- and the giant robot – number Fifteen- often worked together. They would sometimes walk shoulder to shoulder, deep in conversation.

	What were they talking about? Who are they? While moving the waste materials, I could not help but ponder about the two.

	As for why I would have these feelings, I don’t even know myself.

	Even so, I felt that only when my gaze followed their movements, I could get a slight relief from this cruel reality.








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