In the early 1990s, a new wave of immigration surged, and the world was connected by a flourishing aviation industry. People from across the sea boarded large ships and, waving immigration papers, bid farewell to their homelands. They brought labor, as well as products from beyond the continent. Governments, seeking transformation through exports, embraced these items that represented the start of a new era.

East Asian electronics, North American music videos, European fine watches, Southeast Asian sneakers, and, of course, a plethora of small retail-friendly items.

Cultural blending, the flow of merchandise, it was like a joyous ball game; some enjoyed the match, while others weaved through the seats, seeking business opportunities.

"I need another 200 beaded bracelets, boss, give me a 20% discount this time." "Sold out already?" The person behind the counter admired sincerely, "You're a born salesperson, Desert Flannel."

"Tourists are the easiest to fool." The girl fiddled with her curly hair and blue earrings, "Take those three—yes, they like that style."

That summer, she had just bid farewell to the black soil of the graves and plunged into the chaos of the commercial streets. Plappy was always by her side, just like every night of the past when she missed her parents.

Rent, living expenses, the milk she couldn't afford in the early morning—these things suffocated her young self like the scorching heat of summer.

My dear little pumpkin, I trust you have received your birthday gift.

I'm sorry that we couldn't come back to celebrate your birthday as promised. There are some important matters with the seaside business here that haven't been finalized, and we have to stay another two weeks. Please believe me, my little flower bud, there's not a moment you don't cross my mind.

So—when your Uncle Hori presented this cute little thing, I knew I had to send you one.

(A note originally attached to the box, carefully cut out with a knife and well preserved.)

It's still a prototype, and the program can be a bit unstable at times. Press the biggest button on the left to turn it on. The smallest button is for petting, and the two middle buttons are for movement commands.

The animal models that could be implanted included cats, dogs, golden hamsters, and lop-eared plush rabbits, but I asked them to prepare a special little bird for you. I hope you like it.

Lastly, my dear, you should give it an appropriate name. But do promise Mommy one thing ... don't call it "Gigantic Explosive Super Invincible Unstoppable Cupcake Baby," okay?

(A slightly wrinkled note with a faint scent of flowers.)

Pandora Wilson: What's your view on people seeking virtual companionship in this new era?

Desert Flannel: I think it's a good thing and also, well, a reluctant choice. Everyone is so busy ... and virtual companionship can be bought with money.

Pandora Wilson: Do you see it as a kind of financial transaction?

Desert Flannel: Yes, but not entirely.

Desert Flannel: Actually, my mother didn't buy Plappy either. It was a gift from her friend, and then she gave it to me.

Pandora Wilson: You mentioned your mother. Would you mind talking more about her influence on you?

Desert Flannel: Actually, my mother was always busy with her business and passed away when I was little, so I didn't get to talk much with her.

Desert Flannel: She and my father were both involved in a car accident right after my birthday. She never came home. Plappy was the last thing she left me.

Desert Flannel: But Plappy ... Plappy, as she said, kept me company when I was alone. I'm very grateful to her and to Plappy.

Desert Flannel: Oh, right. Since my mom wouldn't let me name it after my taste, I had to name it after my grandmother ...

Pandora Wilson: You mean ...

Desert Flannel: Yes, my grandmother's name was also Plappy.

Desert Flannel: Hah, it was always funny at home when I shouted, "Plappy, don't eat bugs off the floor!"