Alex_Fabianoki
patreon
TPMITWON Chapter 64: Ayaka
🕑 Added 2025-04-17 14:59:58 +0000 UTC"I understand," Souta said briefly, although in his heart he kept repeating the earlier instructions to avoid making mistakes. One bin for the intact and larger parts, another for the small fragments that couldn't be salvaged.
"Well then," Ayaka continued, "this is your trash can."
She walked to the side of the room, pulled two large trash bins with wheels, and pushed them toward Souta. One was pitch black, the other a bluish-gray. Although both bins looked worn and scratched here and there, they appeared clean and ready for use.
"Alright," Souta said again, taking a short breath before starting to move.
Souta bent down, picking up the wooden doll parts one by one. Hands, heads, shoulder pieces, fingers, mechanical wheels that once moved the joints—everything was sorted and examined. Even though it was his first time doing this, Souta's movements became increasingly neat over time.
A few other cleaners glanced at Souta. Some merely turned their heads with curiosity, others observed longer as if trying to assess, and a few others didn’t care at all, remaining focused on their own tasks.
No one spoke. Only the sounds of wood scraping, metal clinking, and the soft creaking of the trash bin wheels could be heard.
But Souta didn’t pay them any mind. He had already set his determination.
Souta didn’t just want to clean this stage. He was clearing his own path toward something greater. Every doll part he collected was not just trash—it was a small step toward understanding Kugutsu no Jutsu, the secret art hidden behind the dolls and shadows.
And Souta knew that if he wanted to be part of the Puppet Arts Performance Theater… he had to start from the bottom. From gathering various scraps and debris.
...
...
...
After several hours, break time finally arrived.
The clock's hands pointed to six in the evening. The sky outside began to glow orange, signaling that night would soon come. Inside the theater, the sounds of the trash bin wheels and the clinking of wooden pieces began to fade one by one.
The cleaners stopped their activities, sitting in the corners of the room, some leaning against the walls, while others immediately opened their lunch boxes.
Souta, who knew nothing about the break schedule, could only sit near his trash bin. Leaning gently against the wall, he tried to calm his breath, which was slightly ragged after several hours of picking up, sorting, and lifting piece after piece of wooden dolls.
As Souta gazed at the contents of the trash bin—so many fragments, pieces of hands, feet, heads, and other small shards. The amount was far greater than he had imagined.
More than thirty people were working together, including Souta himself, yet the pile still seemed endless. It was as if this stage hid remnants of dolls in every corner, never truly clean.
Souta took a slow breath. In his heart, he compared it to his previous life—a world full of technology. In his former life, Souta was a scientist, a researcher, a robotics expert. Creating cleaning robots was a common task. Cheap, practical, efficient. Even an intern could assemble one from standard components available on the market.
But now, sitting dusty in the corner of an old stage with clothes that were starting to smell of sweat, Souta realized how valuable the things he once took for granted were. Cleaning robots? Now they sounded like a blessing from the heavens.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. Heavy and relaxed. Souta turned and saw an adult man walking toward him. His hair was messy, a beard covered part of his face, and his sharp but friendly black eyes looked at him.
