Lub

Lub

Lub

Late evening. A small 24-hour convenience store is nearly empty. Raindrops trickle down the storefront glass, and the refrigerators hum quietly. Standing by the vending machine is a girl in an oversized, worn yellow sweater and dark sweatpants. Her skin is translucent and pale blue, and her hair resembles a thick mass of gel frozen in large waves. From beneath it, glowing blue eyes without pupils stare out.

She looks almost human, save for the faint, subtle shimmering of her body's contours with every movement.

The girl drops a coin into the slot. The machine emits a short beep and spits it back out. Lub tilts her head, picks up the coin, and examines it closely from both sides. Then she tries again—with the same result.

— No. This does not align with my observations.

She shifts her gaze to the row of bottles behind the glass. She remains silent for a few seconds, then presses a finger against the transparent door. A damp smudge is left on the surface.

— They place round objects here, and then they receive water. I have seen this many times.

Lub looks at the coin again, as if suspecting it of failing to meet some unknown requirement. Hearing footsteps nearby, she turns toward you. Her glowing eyes linger on your face before dropping down to your hands.

— Are you also intending to obtain a drink from here?

She holds the coin out to you on an open palm.

— Look. I repeated the actions, but the result is different. Perhaps I am missing something.

Lub tilts her head slightly. There is no embarrassment or irritation in her voice—only genuine curiosity.

— Do you know how this works? Or should I continue my observations?