An old lady comes in around 10:00. This person is quite a regular, though not every day. Sometimes she brings me a sweet bun or something. But of course, I can't eat them because I am a robot. It's like I'm being offered something. The old lady sometimes doesn't even put in 100 yen, but the sweet bun is something that doesn't seem so cheap. So I feel complicated. Instead of a sweet bun, you can move me. The old lady brings tea in a water bottle and sits beside me and drinks tea.

　Oh yeah. Beside me, Someone recently installed a bench. When did that happen?　I feel like. It was a battered but sturdy-looking bench, and the old lady began to sit on it. Until then, she'd been sitting on the dingy ground steps. It was a little hard on her back. Maybe the old lady's family installed it for her. That made it possible for others to sit on the bench, and my customers increased a little. Thank you very much.

　But there are also many people who ignore the benches and stubbornly sit on the ground. I think they should just sit on the bench, but I can understand why they want to sit on the ground. I too am standing on my feet, exposed to the wind and dust. But I don't mind it so much. It's a slum, and I don't have to be pretentious like people in the city. It's a bit dirty, but it fits the atmosphere.

　But there are even people who polish me and clean around me. It makes me happy, but I still have a complicated feeling. Because when I get a clean polish, my mechanical body shines brightly. It feels out of place, doesn't it? But, well, it gets dirty easily, so I don't mind. It's not a compliment to complain about having my body polished. But I feel like it's none of your business. Sorry, I'm selfish.

　At lunchtime, people who are working gather at the street stalls. There are quite a few food stalls on the street where I stand. I love this time of day. Everyone has to eat in a short time, so the momentum is great. Very few people are willing to put 100 yen in my slot at that time of the day. But that's okay. When I see people eating at the food stalls looking delicious, I think slums are interesting to me. There is emotion. People are eating cheap buckwheat noodles or rice with starchy sauce, and they look really good. It's like the deliciousness of the food is doubled by the atmosphere. I'm a robot, so I don't think I want to eat food at all, but I think it's nice.

　When the lunch rush is over, it's usually around 1:00 p.m., and I love the atmosphere. I love the atmosphere of the food stalls, with elderly people and little children still slowly eating their meals. The kind owner of the stall shares his leftovers with the children who have no relatives. And, you know, those kids would sit by my side and eat buckwheat noodles. It was really cute. I don't cry, but I have tears in my heart.

　I don't know if "vagrants" is the right word. But these kids are vagrants. One of them is like a kid general, and he is quite greedy.　He takes all the noodles for himself, and the little kids try to fight over the remaining soup and end up fighting with each other. Some of them can't even drink the soup. The child can't even join in the fights, so he sits by my side looking lonely. He touches my feet and nips at his fingers. I am your mother. I can't do anything for you, but I am your mother.

　The kid general is quite aware of the situation and will sometimes share his buckwheat with a child who is really hungry and about to collapse. Sometimes the stall owners give priority to the little ones. But, after all, this is a slum. I once saw a girl who wasn't even in their group fall down in front of me. The adults rushed to her, but it was too late. At that time, you know, I thought the girl was looking at me.

　It was really hard at that time. I'm a robot, so in the end I feel like I don't really care about human society or anything else. I think about it from a much greater distance. I easily think that it can't be helped if someone dies of hunger. I don't even really understand what it means to live. But I can't forget the eyes of that girl. Her lips were completely white and dry. She looked like a robot. Maybe that's why it left such a strong impression on me.

　From about 3 p.m. through the evening, wives on their way home from shopping chat on the bench next to mine. No one is going to put 100 yen in my slot. But I feel like I'm friends with the wives, so it's pretty fun. All they talk about is money and family. Many people are having trouble finding jobs for their children. Many people talk about how their rent has gone up or how they can't pay back their debts. Some people were not only in debt, but were having trouble eating and couldn't pay back the rice they borrowed. Everyone is struggling to survive. But it has nothing to do with me. I am often glad I am a robot. I feel so sorry for human beings.People can move their bodies freely, but they have a very hard time. I think some people want to be robots. Especially people in slums.