The Sweeper's Double Date, part one

The plank of wood cracked as Kuroiwa broke it in half with a steel, makeshift crowbar. The door to the small ticket booth then swung open with a barely audible creak. Chigusa followed inside and fiddled with a few controls in the booth, turning off the blue ‘do not enter’ digital barricade tape at the zoo’s entrance.

Both approached the now unbarred pathway, with Shiyuri following them closely behind.

Shiyuri giggled and inspected her untied wrists. On them were rope marks, red and sore, clearly from being tied-up for at least an hour or more. “Geez. I hope this doesn’t leave a mark, Sensei,” she said with a mocking tone.

“Oh, get over it,” he answered back, “Your skin’s synthetic, isn’t it? You’ll live.”

“But it’s so expensive to get skin replaced…”

“That sounds disturbing,” said Kuroiwa. “I hope you’re joking.”

“You mean you don’t want to see my insides?”

Kuroiwa flicked a tiny, palm-sized flashlight on and surveyed the area with its light. Withered, dried out trees lined the zoo’s walkways, while other trees that were alive were of clearly a synthetic quality; their autumn-like color clearly a few hues off from the real ones strewn across the cold, cemented ground. Despite being a zoo, every single display and cage contained holograms of real animals going about their usual business. Lions roared in a hushed volume, tigers prowled about as if it were daytime, and penguins fraternized in the pool but clearly did not have any offspring with them.

It was as if watching a movie with its volume turned down to not wake the neighbors.

Chigusa eyed her surroundings, darting her eyes from side-to-side. “Mister Kuroiwa. Why are we here again…?” she asked concerningly. “This is certainly not a place I would visit at night.”

“We’re just hiding out until the sun rises and the patrols thin,” Kuroiwa scratched his head in embarrassment. “Sorry. I knew the zoo was emptying out, so I thought it’d be a good place to lay low.”

“I see…” nodded Chigusa. “But why did we untie Miss Shiyuri? Is it not safer to keep her bound?”

“Yeah, she’s right, you know,” said Shiyuri, showing off her now unbound wrists. “If I were any more armed, I could’ve shot you two up by now.”

Kuroiwa rubbed his temple. “Clearly you didn’t, and haven’t.”

“Clearly.”

“Besides, I thought you’d be more willing to work with me if I let you run free without a gag or two.” said Kuroiwa, turning in a random direction and walking the path. “I still have a few things to ask, after all.”

“Questions, questions. Oh bother,” sighed the exasperated Shiyuri, rolling her eyes. “What more do you want to ask? Do you wanna know what I ate yesterday, the other day, and last week? My three sizes? What color panties I’m wearing?”

“Oh my, how lewd, Miss Shiyuri…”

“I don’t mind letting you know, Code Reader,” she said with a coy smile. “Its color isn’t the only thing that’s daring. Actually, it’s—”

“Mind not bringing that up now?” hollered Kuroiwa, stopping in his tracks to turn to the girls. He signaled them to follow and gestured forward. “I wanna find something to eat. Should be a vendo around here.”

The three walked down a thoroughfare of defunct zoo display monitors and boarded-up food stalls. Most vending machines were, unfortunately, also shut down—some even emptied out and broken by what could safely be assumed to be lowlives and thieves. With each hollowed vendo did Kuroiwa groan, while Shiyuri managed a little chuckle at each and every misfortune that befell him.

Eventually, one active vendo showed itself before the trio. Kuroiwa, without a moment’s hesitation, dashed to it and inspected the goods: A food-only vendo dispensing only pork buns, curry-flavored bread, and small servings of pork cutlet rolled into triangular breading. Its prices were, quite simply, exorbitant for such meager morsels of food.

“Oh, for fu—three-thousand yen for pork cutlet?” exclaimed Kuroiwa in sheer frustration, inspecting the contents of his wallet which only held thirty-thousand. “Eating enough to have my fill’s gonna cost me. Can’t have this on a budget…”

The other products on the menu weren’t any better, ranging from two-thousand for strips of bacon and five-thousand for ready-to-eat burgers the size of a grown man’s palm.

Shiyuri approached the now hunched-over sweeper by the vendo.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Huh?”

“I said, tell me which of these you like.”

Kuroiwa chuckled. “What, you’re treating me now?”

Shiyuri huffed. “Cut the snark and just tell me.”

“O-okay then…” said Kuroiwa, taken aback by Shiyuri’ sudden seriousness. He listed down a few things in the menu he’d like to eat, with the katsu included. All the while, a subtle sheepishness overcame the man, as his diet this time was now in the hands of the criminal he harbored just a little over an hour ago.

Shiyuri planted a palm on the coin receptacle. With a single beep coming from the machine, a current of electricity jolted the vendo and Kuroiwa’s order started dispensing down in the sequence he gave them in. Kuroiwa then took the food and held back the urge to just drool over free food.

Kuroiwa glanced at Shiyuri, and said with a tinge of shame, “Hey. Thanks.”

Shiyuri continued to drive an electrical current into the machine, followed by a few more packs of snacks. She collected them and grinned at Kuroiwa. “They’re for Code Reader and I. Thought you might protest.”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Kuroiwa tilted his head. “You did pay for all that, right?”

“Now, now, Sensei. One shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Just saying. Thought you might’ve tripped an alarm or something.”

Shiyuri raised her arm to her face, then unfurled the skin of her fingers into smaller metallic tendrils from within. “Even if there was, I’m sure I turned it off, too.”

“So you did—”

Shiyuri walked away with her share of the goods on-hand while humming a playful tune as if to play innocent. She approached Chigusa and handed her a fair share of the loot. Chigusa’s eyes lit up with no knowledge of whether Shiyuri had robbed the machine or not. Though to be fair, Kuroiwa could only guess as well.

Both Chigusa and Shiyuri invited Kuroiwa over to a nearby somewhat dilapidated bench to rest and eat, to which the sweeper happily, yet reluctantly, obliged. Chigusa’s really amiable to someone who tried to kill her just earlier, he thought, while staring at the two girls passing the time away snacking on their late dinners, as if nothing went wrong earlier. Kuroiwa sat in the space between them… just to make sure Nekolain doesn’t try anything on her hapless victim.

“So you do like being sandwiched between two girls.” said Chigusa with a giggle.

“Can’t imagine a red-blooded male who doesn’t,” Kuroiwa said back as a matter of fact. “I won’t lie and say you both aren’t attractive.”

Chigusa jumped in her seat and blushed, “E-even me?” she stuttered.

“My, my, Sensei. Does your boldness know no bounds?”

“Well, what I’m saying is…”

“...Is?”

“...You know what? Never mind. No one’s pushing their luck on my watch.”

The silence of the zoo put Kuroiwa at ease. That there was a minute in time when the relentless noise of the city would cease to bombard his senses, while he sat quietly with two women who weren’t actively trying to kill him or get themselves killed was soothing. It wasn’t the perfect description he’d use for Shiyuri, but right now she didn’t seem to be a threat.

Helpful, even. He couldn’t help but be grateful for the free food.

“So, Shiyuri. I wanted to ask you something.”

The girl sighed, exasperated and tired from the longest bout of interrogation she has had since ever. “Ask away.”

“Akasaka. You said you had a last name.”

Shiyuri nodded. “Mm. That I did.”

Kuroiwa continued while leaning on the bench’s backrest. “Neo Shibuyans don’t have last names, right? So why do you have one?”

“I’ve been wondering the same, Miss Shiyuri,” concurred Chigusa with a nod, like a child willing to learn. “It isn’t a title either. Your internal ID doesn’t say it is.”

“Is it really that interesting to you two?” said Shiyuri as she fidgeted with her hair.

“Yes.” answered Kuroiwa and Shiyuri in unison.

“Seriously,” Shiyuri sighed again, shaking her head. She set down her curry bun meal on a napkin draped over her lap then turned to face both. “Shouldn’t you two be interrogating me about my activities as Nekolain? Instead, you two are asking about drivel no sane law enforcer would at a time like this.”

Chigusa stammered. “Well… I mean… yeah, but I just wanted…”

“I don’t care about that right now,” said Kuroiwa with a straight face. “Looking into the Nekolain thing isn’t in my prerogative. I’m just a poor middle-low class worker in this world. That’s work for the authorities—not mine.”

“A middle-low class worker with as good an aim as a low-rank sweeper nowadays? You’re clearly humbling yourself, Sensei.”

“Somehow, I don’t know if I should be happy or sad with that statement.”

Shiyuri chortled. “Take it as it is, Sensei. It’s a compliment. You’re only human, after all.”

The sweeper huffed. “Fine then,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Now, you were saying? Don’t let me take you off on a tangent.”

Shiyuri crossed her arms and smiled, surprisingly absent of contempt or mockery this time around. “If you ask so earnestly, then you’re gonna make me oblige. Fine. Fellow working class citizens should watch out for each other.”

Kuroiwa had something to say about ‘watching out for fellow citizens’ to her, but held back because evidently, Shiyuri could twist a conversation around just to avoid talking about anything of value. And so his mouth remained sealed despite every urge to answer back.

“I’m a new build.”

Chigusa tilted her head. “A new build. A newer model, perhaps? One that comes with last names now, just like old times?”

“Yes, well, I am of a newer build, obviously,” answered Shiyuri while twiddling her fingers together. Her expression shifted to a more grave, serious look as she stared both Kuroiwa and Chigusa’s sparkling eyes of curiosity dead straight. She proceeded with a warning in a deeper-toned voice. “...Right. Promise me you will keep this between us.”

“That depends,” Kuroiwa crossed his arms. “If it’s incriminating Nekolain information, then I can’t say there won’t be a slip of the tongue.”

Shiyuri pouted at the man. “Goddammit, Sensei. I’m being serious here!” roared she, while offering herself up in anger. “You can shoot me, skewer me, send me to the shadow realm, or goomba-stomp me out of existence right after. In fact, I may just prefer that to the alternative. Just swear it doesn’t leave this bench.

The authorities cannot know.”

Chigusa rested her hand on Kuroiwa’s shoulder as to placate him. “It’s okay, Mister Kuroiwa. Let’s hear her out and promise to keep it under wraps.”

Kuroiwa breathed deep and sighed. He relaxed himself and slumped ever-so-slightly. “You’re right,” he said to Chigusa, then turned back to Shiyuri. “Sorry. I’ll keep it under wraps, then. Continue.”

Shiyuri stiffened her shoulders and gulped. “Good. Then let me start with a question for you, Code Reader.”

“Yes?”

“People have varying numbers of Phoenix loops, yeah? Some could go for two, like you. Some would have five to six. Those are usually reserved for people who live very violent lives and somehow keep doing so, even if they choose to reset instead of going back to where they started.”

“Yes, that’s right. The fewer Phoenix loops you’ve had means you’ve lived out a designated lifespan without premature death from violence or otherwise. One to three is a common number among peaceful Neo Shibuyan citizens.”

Shiyuri cupped a hand and made a ‘circle gesture’ with her fingers. “Right? Then where does that leave people like me?”

Chigusa placed a finger to her chin, wondering. “People… like you?”

“Yeah. People with zero loops.”

“Oh, that’s right!” said Chigusa with an enthusiastic tone. “You have zero loops on your identification. The only people with zero loops are the bigwigs up in corporate and high government office.”

“Pretty much,” replied Shiyuri with a similar tone to Chigusa. “99% of people come to with bodies at a projected base age of 6 to 8 years, then the adaptable frame imitates actual human aging up to seventy and ninety. The heads of Neo Shibuya, on the other hand, are built with literal ageless bodies maintained at their prime. Even if they get killed, they just restart back to whatever they had before they kicked the bucket.”

“Miss Shiyuri, that’s common knowledge, isn’t it? Then that would mean you are secretly a Neo Shibuyan head of state or company owner?” wondered Chigusa in a growing, positive voice as if she had just stumbled upon a top secret file.

“If I was, you’d have all sorts of alarm bells ringing in your head right about now. You are a Code Reader, after all.”

“That is true.”

“I am not that,” said Shiyuri, who then started leaning closer towards both Kuroiwa and Chigusa. Both backed off as she began to invade their personal space.

Kuroiwa cleared his throat and asked, “You said you were a new build. Then that means…”

“You might’ve already guessed, you two.

But I hail from a human colony. A real one.”