Gilbert’s apartment was much farther than I’d anticipated. It’s closer to the diner where we’d gone last time, however since we started our journey from Fletcher’s garage, it took at least a good hour before we were close to reaching our destination.

Although I’m thankful we’re not on foot this time, I think I might finally have to admit I need a short break, or else I might pass out. What terrible timing.

Gilbert is staring at me like I’ve just told him Androids are my new favorite thing. “But, your nose, and your leg, they are—”

“Nope.” I hold onto my bike and shake my head again. “Not happening. You’re not helping me with my wounds.” I point to his apartment building. My head is still fuzzy, but I’ve had worse. I can deal with this. “I’ve changed my mind, you can go up there alone, while I go fetch myself some food.”

“But, why?”

Because walking into a stranger’s apartment is always how terrible nights start.

Because I’d be an idiot to agree.

“Because,” I tell him, as I cross my arms. “I’m feeling better. It doesn’t hurt as badly as before.” That’s a lie. “We should focus on your investigation, and more importantly… on finding my friend.”

The rain that had once stopped is pouring out onto the streets once more. His shoulders tense. “Well, I suppose we could directly head toward our first location, then. If I have your consent to do so.”

Huh? “You already know where we should be going?”

“Not exactly.” Gilbert scratches at his cheek. “It is a detour. For… research purposes only. I cannot confirm for certain whether such an excavation will bear its fruits or not.”

I grasp at my bike’s steering wheel. “It’s better than nothing.” I shrug. “Anyway, we should hurry if you want to—” My eyes gloss over the meter used to monitor my motorcycles’ gas levels. “Hey, tin-man,” I clear my throat. “I’m guessing you don’t have fuel?”

The idiot robot blinks twice. “I believe I could acquire some,” he says. “It is quite possible that I have three point two tanks remaining in stock within my apartment.”

“Okay…” I furrow my brows. “And how long would it take for you to acquire some?”

“Exactly zero days, twenty-one minutes, and fifty-two seconds!” He hums and brings a finger to his chin. “It seems you are asking because your vehicle of choice has run out of such substances. If I may, could I—perhaps—fill it up again?”

I roll my eyes. “Wow, you’re so smart. Thanks, I didn’t think of that.”

Gilbert beams. “Thank you, Sir!” He perks up. “I appreciate the compliment! Please,” he motions to the building behind him, “follow me!”

My lip twitches. “You definitely didn’t just suggest that it’s a good idea for us to be in a closed space together. I must’ve heard that wrong... so, what was your actual suggestion?”

“That was my suggestion, Sir. Is it correct of me to assume that we may need to check your hearing, too, in the case of—”

I cover the sides of my head and groan. Oh, why did I agree to this? I could never, in a million years, work with an Android! What was I thinking?

Even staring at him gives me the creeps. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna cut it,” I tell him with a forced smile, once I’ve regained my composure. “I’ll just stay out here and watch over my good old motorcycle while you get us that fuel.”

Gilbert leans forward. He rests his weight against my bike. “Are you sure you do not wish to come inside for just a moment?”

“A hundred percent sure,” I mutter, as I cross my arms and eye the bin that’s about a meter away from our current location. God, can he just hurry up so I can do what I have to?

“…Very well, Sir.” Gilbert disappears into his apartment building. My arms tense by my sides. I count to thirty, then slowly follow his footsteps and take a short peek at the hallway’s interior afterward, to make sure he’s truly gone.

There’s a ramp next to the stairs connected to his apartment’s floor; the brief idea of bringing my bike upstairs to get reprieve from today’s terrible weather comes to mind, but I shake it away. Although I’m definitely curious as to how the inside of Gilbert’s actual unit is, since the corridors of this place aren’t as run down as most buildings I’ve seen in the area, it’s not worth the risk. It’s certainly easy to say that Gilbert seems more trustworthy than any Android I’ve run into so far, but maybe that’s because he’s more intelligent, too. I should be careful around him. His course of action is way too difficult to predict. Plus… I purse my lips together. I have better things to do.

As the sounds of Gilbert shuffling through whatever mess he’s making inside his flat resonate through the hallway, I return to the street-side first. And I march over to the bin.

Now, usually, I wouldn’t stoop so low—people I save tend to give me gifts that often come in the form of food—but because of all that’s been going on, I haven’t rescued anyone in days, and even if I could technically steal from people, I refuse to do that. Folks around here need their provisions just as much as I do. It wouldn’t be right.

I gulp, then take a peek inside the bin. I’m already relieved that what I find isn’t a limb, or a syringe. There’s a piece of bread with mold on its side, that’s sitting atop a chewed up shoe and a bunch of yellowing newspapers. Everything smells like piss. “Urgh.” I cringe. “Really?”

“Sir?” A voice calls. “What are you doing?”

“H-huh?” I yelp, and immediately step away from the trash can. “W-what are you doing?” I point at him. My hand shakes. “I thought you said you were g-gonna be up there for a while…”

The Android holds up a modestly-sized tank of fuel next to his chest. “It seems I was wrong in my calculations,” he tells me, and what a ridiculous claim that is. “I also detected your presence was following me, and therefore, I decided to speed up the process by just a tad, in case you were in need of my assistance.”

“Just a tad?” I cross my arms and frown. “You… literally took away ninety percent of the minutes you’d estimated away…”

“Is that a problem with you, Sir?” he asks me, and I’m seriously one ‘Sir’ away from punching him in the face. “You seem… flustered, as one would say human terms. Would you, perhaps, prefer it if I pretended that I did not see you befriending that cylindrical disposal item?”

“I wasn’t befriending it!” I grasp at the motorcycle’s seat. I give it a slight push. “Now pass me that fuel so we can hurry up and get a move on.”

“You were not talking to the item?”

“It’s called a bin.”

“Ah! My apologies.” Gilbert turns towards the trash can. “I did not mean to get your name wrong, good Sir. I am… still learning.”

“Oh my god, why are you gendering it…”

“Am I wrong? My database states that all cylindrical—” He clears his throat. “Excuse me, all bins, are male.”

“Well,” I continue nudging my bike onto the sidewalk until he yields, and finally hands me that damned tank. “Someone certainly had a field day when they were programming you.”

I try to get as far away as I can from him while starting my work, but the idiot robot skitters over to my side once more. “It seems you have not yet answered my question.”

His words make me stop midway into pouring the gas into my bike’s tank. “Will you shut up for a few minutes if I do?”

“Shut what?”

“Will you stop talking?” Geez, how can he be so clueless? This idiot is what I’ve been afraid of all along?

“Ah, of course.”

“Cool.” I kick at the dirt beneath my boots. “Cool,” I say. “Then, I was basically searching for something to eat. And if you hadn’t walked in, that chunk of bread over there would have probably been my dinner.”

“But!” Gilbert’s eyes widen. “You cannot do that!” He quickly shakes his head. His lips tremble. Even though he’s just an Android, I can hear the trauma in his voice as he gasps again and yells the words: “Your health! That would be a hazard for your health!”

“You’re right.” I finish up with his fuel and slam the tank shut. As I hand it back to him, I smile. “Because not eating at all and starving to death is totally healthy.”

“You are hungry?”

“That’s an understatement…” I mumble.

Gilbert holds his finger up in the air. “A moment, please,” he says, before he dashes back into his apartment with the empty tank of fuel in his left hand.

Honestly, as I’m left here to wonder whether he’ll return with five of his Android friends to murder me, I kind of want to run away and forget this ever happened.

He doesn’t give me the option to do that though, because the idiot robot is back before I have any time to act on my impulses. “Ah! There you are!” Gilbert chimes. “I am happy to see you safe and well!”

“Are you now…”

“Yes!” he grins. “Very much so!” Gilbert pauses, then purses his lips together. He holds out a bunch of canned peas. “Would these do?”

I frown. “Uh, why do you have those?”

“Whenever I have human company over, they are always replenishing their strength with such edibles.”

“And… they left everything at your place?”

“Indeed.”

“…They won’t care?”

He shrugs. “I do not think so. They have not used them in six months.”

I turn to face the bin again, before focusing my attention on the three cans. He could have poisoned them, but will it really be any worse than drinking moldy pee-bread or starving to death? …Probably not.

At least, I really hope it won’t be.

“Fine,” I snatch a single can from his hands and take out my pocket knife to open it. “You win this time, Android. But take the rest back to your apartment,” I tell him. “I don’t want to be eating anybody else’s ration.”

As I gobble down the can’s entire serving in one go and observe Gilbert making a round-trip back to his apartment to deposit the leftover cans, I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve, and throw my now empty can into the bin that somehow, still ended up being useful. “All right,” I motion for us to get going. “What’s our first stop?”

“There is a museum not too far away from here,” Gilbert says, and I immediately regret having asked. “I am interested in analyzing a couple of... aretefacts from its exhibits. It could potentially lead us to more clues on why these fellow Androids had even the slightest interest in harming your kind. Sir?” He pauses. “You are making quite the face. "Is it safe for me to assume you have heard of this area?"

I take a step back.

Fuck, no.

“Y-yeah, but that place is—” The worst.

The absolute worst.

I shake my head. “We can’t go there.”