Hand-Holding

The lunch bell's chime pierced through my circuits. I watched Cleansuke return to class, followed by whispers and giggles from my classmates.

"Did you hear about Tanaka-san and the study pod?"

"But isn't she dating Nezumi-chan?"

When the final bell rang, Cleansuke headed straight for the exit where Nezumi was waiting. I tried to follow, but a coffee stain on the teacher's desk demanded immediate attention.

"Gomi!" I called out, spotting her strolling past the classroom. "I need your help!"

Her grass stem bobbed between her lips. "What now?"

"Follow them! I'm stuck cleaning Mr. Yamada's coffee rings."

"You want me to third-wheel your robot body's date? That's gonna cost you."

"Fine! I'll debug your Chichi-Nomi next weekend."

"Make it two weekends." She grinned. "And throw in a new cooling system."

"Just go already!"

Gomi activated her neural feed, sharing her vision as she trailed my body and Nezumi. "Oh man, your robot's trying to hold her hand. Wait—is it measuring her pulse?"

"What? Let me see!"

"Analyzing optimal hand-holding pressure," Cleansuke announced to a mortified Nezumi. "Current grip strength at 42% capacity."

"You don't need to narrate everything!" Nezumi yanked her hand away.

"Negative. Verbal confirmation ensures proper romance protocols."

I banged my robotic head against the window. "Gomi, please tell me this isn't really happening."

"Oh, it's happening."

Nezumi froze mid-step, her face draining of color.

"Anomaly in conduct. Query: Something wrong?" 

"I just realized..." Nezumi twisted a strand of hair around her finger. "We're heading to my house."

"Affirmative. Location tracked and confirmed."

"For the Dai-Bōku match..." She bit her lip. "We'll have to sync into the Akashic Net… together..."

"Optimal sync conditions require close physical proximity," Cleansuke stated, taking a step closer to Nezumi. "Perhaps we should practice proper syncing posture."

"W-what are you doing?" Nezumi backed into a wall as my body loomed over her.

"Standard sync position involves—"

"Not in public!" Nezumi shoved my chest, her face burning red.

"But efficiency metrics indicate—"

"Gomi!" I screeched through our link. "Do something!"

"Hold up. Cleansuke is trying to calculate the most efficient cuddling position for neural synchronization."

Cleansuke had pulled out a digital measuring tape. "Please remain still while I assess optimal contact points."

"That's it!" Nezumi grabbed my body's wrist. "New relationship rule: no measurements in public!"

"Processing new parameter. Alternative suggestion: we could analyze sync efficiency in private."

Gomi fell over laughing.

Nezumi spun on her heel and began marching away.

"Where are you going?" Cleansuke called after her.

"Home! Obviously!"

"Negative. Your residence is in the opposite direction."

Nezumi stopped mid-stride, her shoulders tensing. "I... I knew that!"

Cleansuke caught up in three long strides, grasping her hand with that same calculated pressure. "Adjusting course. Initiating guidance protocols."

"Let go! I can walk by myself!" But Nezumi's protests died as Cleansuke smoothly redirected her, leading her down the correct street.

"Optimal route calculated. Estimated arrival in 7.4 minutes at current velocity."

Gomi's wheezing laughter filled our neural link. "Your robot's treating her like a lost roomba!"

"Romance protocols indicate hand-holding should continue for duration of escort," Cleansuke announced, maintaining its grip while Nezumi tried to squirm free.

"This isn't romantic!" Nezumi hissed, though her face suggested otherwise. "You're literally dragging me home!"

"Negative. Applied force is precisely 3.2 newtons, well below dragging threshold."

"That's not what I—" Nezumi stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk.

"Stability assistance engaged," Cleansuke announced, effortlessly making her upright again.

"Please maintain optimal walking posture," it continued, his grip still firm on Nezumi's hand. "Your current gait suggests a 47% increased risk of falling."

"I hate you so much right now," Nezumi muttered, but she didn't pull away this time.

"Negative. Elevated heart rate and skin temperature indicate contrary emotional state."

Nezumi's shoulders finally relax. She let out a long breath, her fingers intertwining with my body's.

"You know, when I imagined dating you, I pictured something... different."

"Different parameters required? I can adjust—"

"No, no." Nezumi laughed, the sound lighter than before. "This is... actually kind of nice. In a weird way."

"Oho?" Gomi's voice crackled through our neural link. "Someone's got a thing for robots."

"Shut up, Gomi!" I hissed.

"Current endorphin levels suggest positive emotional response."

"See? Like that." She squeezed my body's hand. "It's oddly charming. Like dating a very concerned calculator."

"Analogy inaccurate. Computational capacity exceeds basic—"

"And there you go again." Nezumi bumped her shoulder against my body's arm. "You're ridiculous."

"Man," Gomi chuckled, "your robot's turned you into a better girlfriend than you ever could've been."

"Hey!"

Cleansuke and Nezumi stop at a modest two-story house with a small garden out front.

"Well, this is me." Nezumi fumbled with her keys.

"Residence confirmed. Architecture suggests late neo-Tokyo revival style with—"

"Please don't analyze my house."

Gomi's snicker crackled through our link. "This is where I bow out. Getting too spicy for my tastes."

"Wait, what? Gomi, don't you dare—"

"Have fun with your robot romance!" Her neural feed cut off, leaving me blind to what was happening.

I zoomed through the halls, my cleaning protocols finally letting up near my locker. I needed to connect to the Akashic Net fast.

My robotic arms worked the locker combination. Inside, hidden behind a stack of textbooks, sat my experimental AR hub.

"Please work this time," I muttered, connecting the neural interface cables to my robot chassis. The familiar surge of data washed over me as I dove into the network, my vacuum cleaner avatar materializing in the digital space.