Zenkichi’s smug grin softened into something gentler as he watched Hamuko’s genuine concern play out. For all her toughness, there was a tenderness about her that reminded him of better days.

“Well, yeah,” he finally admitted, giving her a lopsided smile. “Coughing anything up is usually bad. And yeah—microbots are pretty much like nanites. The year 2038 is something of a sci-fi flick after all.”

"They’re there to keep him healthy,” Akane interjected, stepping in like it was her turn for show-and-tell. "His systems are designed to run for centuries, bare minimum. Three hundred years, at least." She held up her hand, making a pinching motion. "They’re so small a thousand of them could balance on the tip of a needle. They repair damage from the inside and if some of them grow faulty, they are expelled out through coughing."

“See?” Zenkichi drawled with a flourish. “I’m basically a walking repair shop. Nothing to worry about.”