The Sweeper is a Clerk (and a Popsicle)

   The year was 2XXX.

   It really was. At some point in time, humanity had decided to stop counting the years of our Lord and begin counting on a different calendar—N.E..

   They called it the New Era.

   At least a hundred years have passed since the creation of the ‘collective cyberbrain’. A hundred years since humanity began its journey to transcend its mortal flesh and into a more lasting, irremovable form: Androids and cyborgs.

   Humanity had begun to replace flesh and blood with… flesh and blood, but with a frame of steel and electrical currents. Artificial, android bodies became the norm, and even more common among them was the ability to upload their consciousness into an eternal neural network—the collective cyberbrain.

   It was much like uploading files into a cloud storage on the internet, except you’d be uploading the contents of your mind instead of files. This allowed them to transcend the greatest equalizer of all:

   Death.

   After all, if a human in the years of N.E. were to perish, one could simply retrieve their mind from the collective cyberbrain and restore their consciousness into a new body identical to the one they’ve lost.

   That was what they told the sweeper, Mitsuo Kuroiwa, when he regained consciousness into this world.

   Mitsuo Kuroiwa. Cryogenically frozen in the year 2026 A.D., and roused from a long, frigid sleep over a hundred years from his time.

   He had awoken to a dank, damp laboratory that smelled of chlorine and seawater, naked and confused, in front of a live studio audience of two scientists. Kuroiwa’s delirium had only begun to subside, when he heard the first word to enter his ears after a century:

   “Oops.”

   ...Oops?

   Their briefing was short, concise, and to the point.

   The scientists explained that a system failure had accidentally thawed him from his cryogenic sleep. They were under no direct commands to unfreeze Kuroiwa, and did not have any plans to do so in the future. For all intents and purposes, he was to remain a popsicle until the heat death of the universe.

   On the other hand, no one in the New Era had any idea how to freeze him back. Cryogenic freezing had become an abandoned scientific and judicial practice by then.

   Feeling just a tad of remorse for letting the system failure happen, one of the two doctors stepped up for Kuroiwa’s sake.

   Her name was Dr. Sawa.

   Clad in a simple white lab coat and a purple blouse, she claimed she had thirty years of experience as a bioengineer, despite not looking a day over thirty.

   “Here’s two million yen.” Kuroiwa’s heart raced.

   “Rental documents for an apartment downtown.”

   Kuroiwa’s eyes widened.

   “And an ID card to get a job. I know a place.”

   Kuroiwa wondered when she got the time to print an authentic ID for him, but he was nonetheless thankful.

   “And that’s it. Go live your life or something.”

   “Wait, that’s it?”

   “Yeah, why?”

   Kuroiwa wondered if he could offer his services to a greater cause. He asked Dr. Sawa if there was anything more he could do than to simply ‘live life’.

   He was placed into cryogenic sleep for multiple charges of murder and assassination after many, many years of activity. That was until an unlucky break caused Tokyo authorities to finally lock him down and condemn him for his crimes.

   In underground circles of Tokyo, he was often referred to as the man who would take any case, and terminate any person you wanted, for the right price.

   Some even dared to call him “The World’s Greatest Sweeper”.

   Kuroiwa’s kill rate was second to none. No law enforcement could catch him, and no other merc in Tokyo was as good as he. Known for his infamous ‘Perfect Rebound’ technique, he could ricochet bullets in any scenario, and have them land exactly where he needed them to. Flawless, stylish, and downright terrifying to any man unfortunate enough to be in his sights.

   Not knowing this, Dr. Sawa’s response was swift and cold.

   “We don’t need you.”

   “Damn. You… didn’t need to shut me down that hard.”

   “Thing is, you’re only human. Sweepers today are specifically built for war, with every inch of their body capable of being a weapon—quite literally, even.”

   “Umm, okay? Fine. Is there anything you know I can do?”

   Dr. Sawa eyed him from head to toe. Her gaze stuck down south a little too long for Kuroiwa’s comfort.

   “I could. You’re impressive and all, but I have a boyfriend… and I plan to be monogamous in this life.”

   “Uh, what?”

   Kuroiwa couldn’t help but become bothered by this conversation. He just took whatever she gave him and marched out of the laboratory… now with clothes on, of course.

   He would figure something out along the way.

   Dr. Sawa stopped him before he left.

   “Mr. Kuroiwa.”

   “Yeah?”

   “Life may be tough nowadays. But with what you have now, I’m sure you’ll be okay.”

***

***

   He was not okay.

   Rent was due in fifteen days. Two million yen, down to five-hundred thousand. A month behind in payments. Any decent meal cost him at least 20,000 yen. Rice crackers were the cheapest meals he had, clocking in at a two thousand per pack of six.

   Three months had passed since the day he was thawed into Neo Shibuya—a Tokyo where, for some reason, Shibuya expanded so much it became the entire Tokyo City.

   Ah, hell…, he thought.
   That lady tricked me. Two million’s worth shit!

   In contrast to the bright, neon city, his apartment was nothing more than a traditional 4.5 tatami room. He had everything he needed to live: a fridge, a kitchen, a sink, a bathroom, a futon, and a small fan that helped him beat the heat.

   But he risked losing all that.

   He stared at the memo sitting right at the edge of his small, wooden table.

   Monthly rent: 1,000,000 yen.

   That didn’t even cover payments for basic utilities. The less said of them, the better.

   Kuroiwa brought out his smartphone and started browsing the internet.

   Smartphones were shockingly cheap in this era. He assumed there had been no longer any demand for them, since a common man can jack into the web internally from their cyberbrain. Those who had phones were in it for the novelty, or were human themselves.

   Then again, he hadn’t confirmed the existence of any other humans in Neo Shibuya so far.

   Opening a part-time work app, he scrolled through hundreds of job postings. Most of them were simple work that wouldn’t be out of place even back in Kuroiwa’s home time. Some openings already had their text grayed out. These were the openings that Kuroiwa had tried for—and failed.

   He winced at the sight of these postings. Cold sweats raced down his neck and a heat clambered to his cheeks, as a sigh escaped him.

   The man glanced at his digital alarm clock, just positioned beside his futon.

   7:45am.

   Well, time to go to work. At least I have this one.

***

***

   Convenience Store Poppy’s, 6pm. A humble franchise.

   Rows of commodities lined the shelves. The store wasn’t too big—estimated to be able to hold around ten people inside without the threat of rubbing each other’s shoulders constantly. Right now though, only one customer walked the halls.

   A government-mandated holographic TV hung right above the cashier’s area. Under that TV was the sole cashier and only one of two workers in Poppy’s right now.

   Mitsuo Kuroiwa. World’s greatest sweeper, turned convenience store clerk.

   He'd been here for a good nine hours now, but showed no signs of tiring out. Kuroiwa was used to being active for more than twenty-four hours at a time, so standing around in an air-conditioned room for less than half of that was no big deal.

   Then again, he did lament that nine hours of work for six days a week didn't earn him enough to pay rent for a bog-standard apartment.

   A deep, manly voice called out to him, coming from a few feet below him.

   “So Kuroiwa, working a full shift today as well?”

   “Yeah. I wouldn't mind working an extra hour to make up for the other night.” he replied.

   Kuroiwa looked below him and smiled at his manager.

   This manager was, in fact, only two and a half feet tall.

   His skin was covered in brown fur. His cheeks were drooped naturally, and his limbs were short and stubbly. His beady eyes shone in the store's fluorescent lights as he looked up to Kuroiwa.

   His manager didn't look human. In fact, he was not human at all. Not human in a way Kuroiwa knew, at least.

   It was a small dog – a bulldog, to be exact. A bulldog that spoke in a grown man's voice and stood on two hind legs.

   “Nonsense! You needn't work yourself to the bone for my sake, my boy.”

   “Mr. Shinada, it's okay. I'm glad to be of use here.”

   Kuroiwa had a great deal of respect for his manager, Shinada.

   Shinada was Dr. Sawa's friend. Only a few days after Kuroiwa's awakening, she had linked him up with her friend, telling him that she knew someone who urgently needed work.

   On the first day, Shinada treated Kuroiwa as an equal, even though he knew that the man didn't have any advantages that came with an augmented cyborg body.

   He was simply happy to not be the only one keeping his branch of Poppy's up and running.

   “I take it your interview a few days ago fell through?”

   Kuroiwa sighed. “Yes... as usual, I didn't make the cut. Nothing I could do was anything somebody couldn't already do better.”

   “That sounds rough.”

   Shinada jumped up the cashier’s table, and nabbed a single chicken drumstick from the display heater.

   “Mr. Shinada? We shouldn’t be taking from the displays…”

   “Big deal.” Shinada said, chowing down on his meal. “I own the place.”

   “R-right…”

   Shinada hopped down the table, avoiding the sight of the one customer in the store.

   “Anyway, my boy. That’s the umpteenth time you’ve failed an application. Why not consider getting yourself some augments?”

   “Augments?” said Kuroiwa, pressing his finger on his chin. “You mean, cybernetic augments?”

   “Indeed. Every jobseeker in Neo Shibuya has at least one trick up their sleeve with their augmented bodies. You can have one too. Can be anything you like. Might help you get work you actually want.”

   “How much would it cost me?”

   “Free. With the caveat you’d spend the next decade or so getting your salary docked to pay it back. But it’s not a big deal. A decade isn’t a lot of time. I see no downside.”

   A decade…

   To the people of this era, time must have been irrelevant. What’s a decade when you could build yourself a new, younger body the moment your body starts failing, anyway?

   But a burning question raged inside him.

   Why put the aging part in when you could just not get old?

   “No thanks.” said Kuroiwa. “I’m happy with my body right now.”

   Shinada sighed, holding his temple. “That answer again. Heh. I’ll never get that part of you, Kuroiwa. But you do you.”

   A second customer entered the store—seemingly a young girl. Their conversation fleeted immediately as if leaving both their minds in an instant.

   “Welcome to Poppy’s!” Kuroiwa and Shinada greeted in unison, as the lady went amongst the aisles.

   The other customer who had been in the store for a while now approached the counter. She was a woman nearing her elderly years, her hair beginning to gray out.

   She deposited a few bags of sweets and a single frozen bento in front of Kuroiwa. She paid a grand total of 30,000 yen for all of it, baffling Kuroiwa internally.

   “Thank you, ma’am. Would you like me to heat your meal?” Kuroiwa said, sliding the bento box near himself.

   The lady firmly grasped the bento herself, pulling it closer to herself.

   “It’s okay, young man. I can heat it myself.”

   Oh…

   Kuroiwa knew what was coming. He watched the woman, awaiting whatever tricks she had laying in wait.

   The customer proceeded to open her chest cavity, her skin and muscles unfolding as tiny metal joints extended, holding fragments of her skin as if they were meat skewers. Inside was what looked to be a microwave compartment, complete with a warm, orange glow. She then placed the bento inside, and her chest cavity closed up.

   She smiled warmly at Kuroiwa. He fought his urge not to be visibly amused, and held a customer-pleasing smile, while a tick-tock sound emanated from the lady… not too different from the sound a toaster makes.

   For a good minute, the two simply stared and smiled. Internally, Kuroiwa wanted to look away and laugh, but in this line of work, one must ‘always smile and nod’.

   A loud ding sounded from the lady. She opened her chest cavity once again, taking out a perfectly warmed bento.

   She really is a microwave!

   “Here you go, young man. Please put it with the rest of my things.”

   Kuroiwa packed her purchases. The lady went her way, making sure to leave the premises while smiling warmly at Kuroiwa.

   “P-please come again!”

   The moment the automatic doors had closed, he looked to the slide and let out a tiny chuckle. He ought to have laughed a little more, but too much time had already passed. The mood was gone.

   These folks are really freaky… he thought.

   It was a good thing Shinada had already gone out back—he might’ve gotten a smack upside the head for ridiculing a customer. Even out of their sight.

   Shortly after the customer had left, Kuroiwa heard rattling from the far end of the store.

   A bunch of canned goods and other packages had fallen from the shelves. The other customer was beside them, panicking and putting the merchandise back into the shelves.

   “S-sorry!” she yelped.

   Kuroiwa watched the girl frantically move about.

   The girl tumbled and spilled a whole bunch of merchandise yet again, in no less than a minute.

   Kuroiwa flinched as the sound of metal hitting a stone floor echoed throughout the store. His eyes narrowed as he stood in place. He wanted to help the poor girl, but he was instructed to not leave the counter unless something broke or there was an attack on the store premises or something.

   The girl finished rearranging the products she had displaced. In her hand were two half-liter bottles of juice, and a pack of curry cup noodles. She began approaching the counter, making sure she didn’t hit anything on the way.

   Her hip swayed a little, and bumped the shelf to her side.

   “Ah!” she yelped, as the merchandise swayed dangerously close to falling over again.

   Kuroiwa jolted away, his hand reaching out in reflex.

   “Miss, that’s okay. Slowly.”

   The girl looked towards the counter, and at Kuroiwa. She shrank and tip-toed, inching closer towards him.

   Oh geez. She’s a klutz. Wait…

   Kuroiwa caught himself thinking. This was the first time he’d seen someone who was earnestly clumsy these past few months.

   The citizens of Neo Shibuya were always perfectly calibrated to not make physical human error. Sure, there were errors in judgment and other non-physical mistakes, but things like clumsiness and forgetfulness weren’t even a thing anymore.

   Is she not a cyborg? Or an android?

   She nervously slammed a plethora of commodities and necessities on the table. The girl’s brows were furrowed, and she tried to look fierce in front of Kuroiwa.

   The girl looked quite young, around her early to mid-twenties at best. She had brown hair with a slight purple tinge to it. She wore a white polo and pencil skirt, making her look like a regular office lady.

   A black mouth mask concealed half her face, giving her an oddly mysterious look. Her eyes were of a bright green—the mask allowing them to stand out even more.

   Though what truly drew Kuroiwa’s attention was an unusual characteristic on her head.

   A pair of dog-like ears flopped down either side of her head. Those ears resembled a spaniel’s—Kuroiwa deduced that they looked to be of a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel’s, specifically.

   He couldn’t help but stare.

   Hmm. She kinda looks familiar…

   “Can I help you?” said Kuroiwa, tilting his head.

   He had a crawling feeling in his neck that he definitely had seen this girl before. If he had a cyberbrain like everybody else, it would be a cinch to recall.

   Where else could he have seen her? Where would it be possible?

   It came to him. It was on every other billboard, playing almost every other day. Something that bewildered at first, then aggravated, and then caused nothing but bemused apathy.

   Kuroiwa’s expression lit up, and a bit of pep emerged from his monotone, bored voice.

   “Oh, wait! I remember you…”

   The girl retreated from the counter and started avoiding eye contact with Kuroiwa.

   “Eh?” she yelped.

   It was a sad sight. She looked to be on the brink of tears, and her face was bright red like a tomato.

   “I’ll pay you if I broke anything…”

   She, in fact, did not break anything.

   Kuroiwa’s heart melted at the sight of this lady making herself look like a wreck. He felt not unlike how he did earlier in the day, but this time, he didn’t feel pity.

   She’s… kinda cute, he thought. Cute in the way a puppy would beg for food or whine when it was sad. Cute in the way a pet nuzzled against your leg when it needed company.

   “No, no. It’s not that. Asides, if you broke something, I’d know right away.” said Kuroiwa.

   He planted his hand on his hip and beamed at her.

   “Oh, yeah! I know who you are. I’ve seen you in a commercial!”

   The girl’s eyes widened in surprise. She took a step back and finally looked Kuroiwa’s way.

   “What? Ehhh?!”

   “Wait, so I hit the nail on the head?” said Kuroiwa, hammering his fist down an open palm in delight. “That was just a guess.”

   “H-how did you know?!”

   The dog-eared young lass screeched in panic from within the halls of Poppy’s.

   “Hauu…” the girl sighed.

   Kuroiwa took the girl’s other items and began scanning them. He slowed his movements down to make some idle talk.

   “I saw your commercial everywhere I looked. Gotta say, I’m feeling a little starstruck.”

   The girl bowed her head, embarrassed. She remained silent as her eyes shifted from side to side.

   “I-it’s not a big deal…”

   Kuroiwa prattled on, failing to hear anything with how meek the girl sounded when she spoke.

   “I didn’t notice your ears on TV, though. Are they, you know…
   …detachable?”

   The girl shrunk again. She breathed deeply and mustered a squeak.

   “...ey ed…ted…out…”

   “Sorry?”

   “They… edited my ears out.”

   “They edited it out? Like, CGI edit out?”

   “Y-yes…”

   “Oh. That’s a shame. I think they’re kind of cute. I wonder why…”

   The girl lifted her collar and covered her face. Her face became even redder as she turned her head away from Kuroiwa.

   Kuroiwa wasn’t exactly a people person, considering his previous profession—but one look at the lass’ expression was a dead giveaway that it was time to move on.

   “Ah. Sorry about that.” he said, while he packed her purchases into a plastic bag. “That’ll be fifteen-thousand yen.”

   That phrase alone pained him. Good on her she can afford this.

   A peaceful transaction took place. Kuroiwa wanted to chat further, but didn’t want to press on the poor girl any further than he already has.

   “Please come again!”

   The girl slinked out of the convenience store, glancing back at Kuroiwa. She didn’t look offended or wary of him, but rather looked more curious and embarrassed than anything.

   Kuroiwa sighed and wiped down the counter.

   However, something was wrong.

   The same plastic bag containing the girl’s purchases—she had forgotten them.

   Oh, crap.

   He looked to Poppy’s entrance, but the girl had already vanished into the night. Kuroiwa grabbed the bag and peeped into the store’s backroom, where Shinada looked to be taking a nap.

   “Hey, boss.”

   “Yeah?”

   “A customer forgot her stuff. I’m gonna go chase her down. Just letting you know in case somebody else comes in.”

   “My boy, just ping her.”

   “Ping her?”

   Shinada stared at Kuroiwa, and then palmed his face. The realization hit him like a truck.

   “Oh, right. I forgot. You can’t do that.”

   Kuroiwa could wait no longer. He was raring to go; not just to do his work, but to escape the monotony of working in this joint.

   “Sorry, boss! I’m going after her!”

   Kuroiwa dashed out of the convenience store, the girl’s package in hand.

   “Oh. Damn.” sighed Shinada, his arm reaching out towards the back room's door.

   “Forgot to tell him about the scheduled riots tonight.
Oh well.”