In a world populated by countless kaiju, Yuuka Kazami devoted herself to research. She believed that every lifeform is defined by two fundamental elements: memory and ability. Her work explored theories about how these two elements influence one another.
Unfortunately, the complexity of her theories went over people's heads. Most simply referred to her work as "cell research." Needless to say, Yuuka Kazami was far from pleased with that oversimplified label.
Lately, the professor had turned her attention to an even more complex line of research. She had begun separating memory and ability, extracting them and transplanting them into other beings. In doing so, she had effectively torn apart the very theory she once proposed.
The result of this destructive experimentation was a new kind of youkai known as kaiju. Incidentally, the very first of these creations turned out to be the professor herself.
Kaiju are sometimes feared as harbingers of disaster, and other times they're revered as heroes. In that sense, they're not so different from the youkai that have long existed in this world.
The sound of typing echoed through a room filled with countless plants. With every increase in the character count displayed on the monitor, Yuuka's fingers moved faster across the keyboard.
"Professor."
A gentle voice cut through the otherwise mechanical rhythm.
"What is it, my children?"
Though she felt them standing behind her, Yuuka continued typing without turning around. Her fingers raced across the keys as if driven by something unseen.
"Maybe you should get some rest."
"You've been working nonstop since last night... Any longer and it'll start taking a toll on you."
Despite the concern in their voices, Yuuka still didn't turn around.
"Doremy. Keine. You know how it is. I can't afford to waste time."
The two fell silent. It was because they cared for the professor.
"It's fine. I'm feeling good today. Just a little longer."
She was about to drown her thoughts back into the sea of symbols―
"...What's that smell?"
"Professor, I made some warm herbal tea for you! I ran out and picked the herbs myself. Here you go!"
"Professor! If you'd like, I can sing a song to help you focus!"
Yuuka finally stopped typing. Enticed by the gentle aroma of herbs, she turned around.
"...All right. I suppose I'll take a short break."
The gloomy expressions of the kaiju gathered around her brightened instantly.
(Gosh... here we go again.)
Yuuka's research was always interrupted like this, but she never turned the kaiju away. Was it because doing so had proven to improve her efficiency? Or was it because there was a genuine bond between them?
Only the professor knew the answer.