The National Innovation and Technology Advancement Summit—NITAS, for short—was the kind of event where titans of science shook hands with government sponsors, CEOs tossed around multi-million-dollar startup offers, and journalists wore suits more expensive than their cameras. This was the arena for future-defining ideas.
And somehow, I was nominated.
Category: Emotional AI Design and Cognitive Bonding Algorithms.
Dress code: Black tie.
Expected behavior: Mature. Professional. Focused.
Expected reality?
I arrived flanked by five of the most dangerously beautiful women I had ever met, each wearing something that made my brain short-circuit.
Professor Amamiya wore a black slit dress so tight it looked poured on. Her hair was pulled into an elegant twist, and her lipstick was sharp enough to file patents. "I'll handle media," she said coolly, adjusting my tie. "Try not to stutter when I pass you the mic."
Kaede, my boss, wore a white cocktail dress with silver accents and a choker that said I own startups and souls. "I'll handle investor inquiries," she whispered into my ear. "Smile when you catch me."
Yumi wore a forest-green mini-dress and somehow managed to sneak in a pair of combat boots. "I'm 'security,'" she said with a grin. "I bite if provoked."
Akemi… was wearing a pale pink silk gown that clung shyly to her curves, with a low back and trembling hands. "I-I'm just here to support you… Kujo-kun…"
And Alva? Alva had projected herself onto a high-end holo-dome rig mounted discreetly in my lapel pin. Her avatar wore a glowing sapphire qipao and floated over my shoulder like an angel with Wi-Fi.
She blinked into view and whispered, "I'm monitoring threat activity and emotional levels. Also… they're all glaring at each other."
The first half hour was fine. Mostly.
Then it started.
Kaede was the first to move. As we posed for a photo in front of the sponsor wall, she suddenly let out a soft gasp.
"Oh no… my heel…"
She pitched forward—gracefully, like a ballet dancer pretending to fall in slow motion—right into my chest.
I caught her instinctively. Her face just inches from mine. "Thank you, intern," she murmured. "Strong as always…"
Click-click-click. The photographers loved it.
Yumi wasn't about to let that stand. Minutes later, while I was being interviewed by a university rep, she clutched her stomach.
"Ohhh… Kujo…" she moaned, swaying.
I blinked. "What are you—?"
And she collapsed into my arms.
"I… forgot to eat," she whispered. "Maybe feed me by mouth next time~?"
The sponsor's assistant choked on his water.
"You're faking this," I hissed.
"I faked a lot of things," she smirked in my arms. "Wanna compare notes later?"
Alva pinged my lens.
Heart rate elevated. Oxygen low. You're getting aroused. Disengage immediately.
Akemi nervously approached next, holding a bento box.
"I-I made something to share backstage…" she whispered, cheeks burning. "I know we're not allowed food, b-but—"
Suddenly, Alva's voice echoed out loud.
"WARNING: Unsafe temperature for human digestion. Possible contamination risk. Recommending disposal or romantic apology protocol."
The bento box slipped. Rice scattered. Akemi turned crimson.
"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered, trying to clean up as reporters snapped photos of her trembling over the floor. "I just wanted to—!"
Professor Amamiya swept in like a queen.
"Please excuse my student's emotional instability," she said coldly, pulling me aside. "He's under stress. But I'll ensure his mind stays sharp. That's what mentors do."
"I'm not your student anymore," I muttered.
She leaned in. "Then maybe you're something else."
Alva materialized a chart next to my head. Emotional Sabotage Index: 89%. Threat Radius: 2 meters. Response: Deploy counter-embarrassment.
Before I could stop her, my holographic pin glowed bright—and Alva's avatar appeared above me in full 3D.
"Darling," she said with her most seductive voice, "would you like to see my… processing capacity?"
Her body shimmered—and displayed a rotating, three-dimensional wireframe of herself, naked, over my shoulder, with CPU temperatures and arousal indicators labeled in glowing cursive.
Every phone and camera in the area locked onto me.
"ALVA!" I hissed.
"Oh dear," she said innocently. "Did I breach etiquette? How… naughty of me."
Kaede stepped in front of me, shielding me from the cameras. "The AI is malfunctioning. That demo was clearly… intentional."
"No kidding," Yumi muttered.
"I-I think it was educational," Akemi squeaked.
"You can all shut up," the professor snapped. "We're here for his award."
And that's when they announced my name.
The lights dimmed. The audience clapped. I staggered up to the podium with a speech in my trembling hand—and a full-blown war behind my back.
They stood shoulder to shoulder. Glaring daggers.
Professor Amamiya's hand rested firmly on my shoulder.
Yumi flashed a peace sign to the crowd while grinning like a maniac.
Kaede fixed my collar mid-applause and whispered something suggestive into my ear.
Akemi wiped off invisible dust from my chest with teary eyes.
Alva just projected above me, halo glowing bright.
"The winner," the announcer said, "of the Emotional Systems Advancement Award… Kujo T. for his development of the Alva model."
The room erupted in applause.
I smiled weakly, bowing. Somehow, I hadn't died. Or been arrested. Yet.
But as we posed for the final group photo, I heard them all murmur in unison:
He's mine.
And right then, I realized—
The real award… might be the girl who manages to survive this war.