Stormbringer: Bungou Stray Dogs

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I was once asked by the professor, "What does it feel like to be a machine?"

I couldn't answer that question. Being a machine only felt like being a machine. It was exceedingly level, naturally, with no incidental conditions. So I answered with that, and added, "Professor, what does it feel like to be human?"

She had folded her arms, said nothing, then let out a troubled laugh.

To be human and the feeling it brings.

You could say that that's the origin of this case, and the most important part of it.

Verlaine had said that he wasn't human. It was such an important matter that he would turn the world upside down for it. For him, whether or not he was human was an importantly fatal question that affected what he did now and what he did in the future.

How strange. What does it matter if you're human or not?

With that in mind, I turned to Chuuya-sama.

"Chuuya-sama."

"......"

"Chuuya-sama."

"....What?"

"It's your turn. 'The game of discovering the strangeness of humans'."

"....." Chuuya-sama didn't answer.

"Now to hear from this machine." I knocked both of my palms against the desk. "'Uhhh, a strange thing about humans... For whatever reason, they're ashamed to have their bodies make any sound aside from their voice, like burping or passing gas.' Ok, next." 

I tapped the desk to indicate Chuuya-sama's turn. He looked at me and let out a long sigh.

"Haaaa..."

What a strange answer.

"'Haaaa', indeed. Thank you for your answer. Now to this machine. 'When women describe another woman as a sweetheart, it usually means that she's not sweet. The reason is unknown. When describing her as a super sweet girl, they're really saying, 'she's got a terrible personality.'" Tap tap. "Now for Chuuya-sama."

"Ahhhh...." Chuuya-sama spoke in a sluggish manner.

"Thank you for your reply. Once again, back to this machine. 'When using the bathroom, there's a mysterious protocol that men have to raise the toilet seats. Women don't. Why? Sitting down would keep substances from splashing everywhere. Specifically the small-"

"Stop it! That's dirty!" Chuuya-sama shouted.

I tilted my head. "Dirty? They finished cleaning this room 92 minutes ago."

"That's not..." Chuuya-sama aggressively scratched his head. "Argh, enough! Get me out of here!"

We were in the city police's interrogation room.

The moss green walls were full of tobacco stains. All the four-legged chairs had loose screws, causing them to shake with a rattle if you tried to move. There were water stains and scratch marks left behind by someone's hand on the desk. The water stains were likely the remnants of a suspect's tears.

After we were asked to voluntarily accompany the city police, they brought us to this room and told us to wait a while. We could easily break out, but it would be quite the hassle if we didn't go through the legal procedures. It was better for us to wait for the Port Mafia's legal advisor's to arrive.

Though I must say, being detained by the police as an investigator was quite a valuable, exciting experience. It's a good thing I hid my position. Thank goodness for investigative protocol.