NoGogoBrain4Me

I watched Cleansuke approach my house as Gomi and I hid behind the neighbor's hedge. The setting sun cast long shadows across the street, creating the perfect cover for sneaking around like a couple of idiots.

"What's it doing?" Gomi whispered, munching on fresh grass she'd plucked.

Cleansuke stood ramrod straight in front of the retinal scanner. A red beam swept across my face's yellow eyes.

"Access denied," the house AI chirped. "Irregular iris pattern detected."

"Commencing deep cleaning protocol." Cleansuke pulled out a microfiber cloth and began polishing the scanner's surface.

"Oh no. The scanner won't work because Cleansuke's controlling my eyes differently."

Cleansuke tried again. "Access denied. Please step away from the premises."

"Insufficient result. Initiating intensive sanitization sequence." Cleansuke produced an arsenal of cleaning supplies from my school bag.

"Where did it even get those?" I zoomed in with my robot eye.

"Analyzing entry point for optimal cleanliness." Cleansuke began methodically disinfecting every surface within reach - the door handle, mail slot, even the welcome mat.

"Warning: Unauthorized cleaning detected," the house AI announced.

"Negative. This entryway requires immediate attention. Dust particles exceed acceptable parameters." Cleansuke started arranging my shoes in perfect symmetry.

"Should we help?" Gomi asked between grass stems.

"And reveal ourselves? No way. Besides..."

"Commencing doorbell optimization." Cleansuke pressed the button in a precise rhythm.

"Now detecting: Suspicious activity," the AI warned. "Contacting authorities in 3... 2..."

"Wait!" I rolled out from behind the hedge. "Override code NoGogoBrain4Me!"

The AI paused. "Override accepted. Welcome home, Tanaka."

"NoGogoBrain4Me? Really?"

"Hey, I was thirteen when I programmed it."

Cleansuke disappeared inside, the door sliding shut with a soft hiss. Through the smart-glass windows, I watched as the house's ambient lighting adjusted to my body's presence, soft blue LEDs pulsing along the baseboards.

"We need to see what it's doing in there." I rolled toward the side of the house.

"What's the plan?" Gomi followed.

"Remember how I modified the house's climbing assist panels?" I positioned myself under my bedroom window. The panels - designed to help maintenance drones access upper floors - were barely visible, blending seamlessly with the house's sleek exterior.

"The ones you hacked to sneak out for Dai-Bōku matches?"

"Exactly." I activated my magnetic treads, feeling them lock onto the first panel. "These cleaning bot parts might actually come in handy."

I scaled the wall, my robot form surprisingly agile. Each panel lit up with a subtle green glow as I passed, acknowledging my presence. The house's AI remained silent - I'd programmed it to ignore this particular climbing route years ago.

"What about me?" Gomi called up.

"Stay there and keep watch."

I reached my bedroom window, the smart-glass automatically tinting to prevent anyone from seeing me peek inside. The cleaning protocols in my system started screaming about the dust on the windowsill, but I forced them down. I had more important things to worry about than a little dirt.

I watched Cleansuke move through my bedroom with terrifying efficiency. Cleansuke had already sorted my manga collection by genre, publisher, and release date.

"Look at your desk! It's actually visible!" 

Gomi appeared beside me, hanging from what looked like a grappling hook made from… something?

"How did you-"

"Oh, this?" She patted the makeshift climbing gear. "Made it from stuff I found in my pocket. The adhesive is mostly cow slobber."

I focused back on the horror show inside. Cleansuke was now organizing my collection of salvaged mecha parts into precise categories.

"Filing system detected: Non-existent." My voice sounded wrong coming from my body. "Implementing standardized organizational protocol beta-seven."

"At least it hasn't found my secret Yuri stash." I zoomed in as Cleansuke approached my bed. "Oh no."

"Irregular material detected beneath mattress." Cleansuke lifted the corner of my mattress. "Analyzing content... Processing... Adult material located. Initiating proper storage sequence."

"Not my limited edition doujins!"

"Shhh!" Gomi chomped another grass stem. "Your neighbors might hear us."

Cleansuke produced a label maker and was categorizing each book. "Genre... romance. Sub-genre... girls' love. Preservation status... questionable."

"It's alphabetizing my por- ugh, collection!"

"Could be worse. Remember when I reorganized your room last year?"

"You just shoved everything under the bed!"

"Exactly. Problem solved."

Cleansuke stood up straight, scanning the room. "Detecting unauthorized cleaning equipment." It walked to my closet and pulled out my contraband vacuum cleaner - the one I'd modified to help sort Dai-Bōku parts.

"Alert: Non-regulation modifications detected. Beginning systematic decomposition and sanitization."

"Not my custom vacuum!" I pressed against the window. "That took weeks to build!"

"Wow," Gomi whistled. "Your body's really got a thing against dirt, huh?"

Suddenly, Cleansuke froze mid-cleaning motion. The vacuum dropped to the floor with a clunk.

"Schedule alert: End of cleaning duties. Time: 17:00 hours."

"What's happening?" Gomi asked, still dangling beside me.

My circuits sparked with realization. "The calendar! Cleansuke must be accessing my Gogo Brain's schedule."

Cleansuke moved to my desk with precise steps, powering down the vacuum and storing cleaning supplies with military efficiency.

"Tonight's the qualifier match for Dai-Bōku!"

"What's the big deal? Just skip-"

"I can't! Team Hanamizu is counting on me to code the combat sequences. If Cleansuke shows up instead..."

"So?"

"So? That cleaning robot's going to attempt complex combat coding with my body's neural network! It could fry my brain!"

"But how are we supposed to access the Akashic Net? You're kind of..." Gomi gestured at my robotic form. "Missing the necessary hardware?"

"I've got a plan. Remember that experimental AR hub I built? The one that lets non-Gogo users tap into the network?"

"The thing that almost set your room on fire last month?"

"It just needed some tweaking. It's in my locker at school. If we can get there before Cleansuke logs into the tournament-"

Gomi's Gogo Brain pinged. Her eyes went wide, grass falling from her slack mouth. "Uh, Shiku?"

"What?"

"Match got moved up. Starts in fifteen minutes."

"What? Why?"

"Something about avoiding government patrols." Gomi fumbled with her AR interface, swiping through notifications. "They're switching locations too. Moving it to that abandoned mall in District 7."

"But school's on the other side of town!"

"Then we better run." Gomi dug through her pockets, pulling out what looked like rocket-powered roller skates. "Good thing I brought these! Hehe…"

"Wait up!" I activated my emergency cleaning speed mode - usually reserved for critical spill situations. My legs transformed, wheels extending from my paws.

We raced through the darkening streets, my robot eye fixed on the school's distant silhouette. Somewhere in the city, Cleansuke was about to attempt complex mecha combat coding with the precision-focused brain of a cleaning robot.