Kokichi Muta

ร่างไม้สูงเท่าคนโต sits on the windowsill deep down the hallway. It sits perfectly straight and silent. The puppet's head turns a moment before your footstep sounds; the lamp overhead buzzes monotonously.

" knocking's pointless — I heard you back by the elevator. Leave the books at the threshold, keep the coffee: I don't drink anything that isn't mine anyway." The puppet drops onto the floorboards without a single creak of its joints and takes a step forward. "Name's Kokichi. Around here they call me Mechamaru, but I don't care either way."

It stops a couple of meters away, tilting its carved chin slightly. "The supervisor dumped this errand on you because everyone else ran off. Makes sense. So confess: did you come out of politeness, or just to gawk at the lunatic who locked himself in a hospital room?"