The Sweeper Visits a Girl's House, part two

Kuroiwa leaned on a wall beside a few wooden shelves lined with all sorts of old books and, surprisingly, vintage cases of video game CDs; some of them titles Kuroiwa recalled being massively popular in his time. While Shiyuri invited him to sit on her rather simple, white-sheeted bed, he refused on account of not laying where a girl may have recently.

Meanwhile, Chigusa walked around the small room, her expression that of a deer in headlights, fascinated with all low-tech objects Shiyuri had laying around. Even her personal computer looked somewhat ancient—even if the specs of it were far beyond anything in Kuroiwa’s known past.

Shiyuri herself was in the bathroom, changing clothes mere minutes after serving the non-poisoned, non-spiked tea from the meager kitchen by the storage room.

Chigusa cooed when she laid her eyes upon a fancy white and black box-like gadget connected to a tiny flatscreen TV on the ground.

“Ooh! What could this be?” she asked.

Kuroiwa inspected it and found its design to be quite similar to a ‘Gamestation 5’ back in his day. But while it retained similar looks to it, it was clearly not the same device; this thing was smaller to boot, and much more rectangular than before.

“Looks like a game console,” he said, studying it. The device itself, while clean, has had its brand markings and stickers weathered with time. In addition, he noticed the two controllers plugged into it via an unfamiliar USB port, its red light possibly indicating that both controllers were charging.

“Don’t you recognize it, Chigusa?”

“I unfortunately don’t,” Chigusa shook her head. “It kind of looks like a Gamestation, but if it is, it’s a very old model.”

“Say, what model of Gamestation is the newest, right now?” he asked out of curiosity.

“Latest one was Gamestation 9. But this one is probably two or three generations back.”

That’s odd. Thought they’d be making more of these, he thought, remembering how ubiquitous these gaming consoles were back then.

“Did they stop manufacturing and making Gamestations?”

“Yeah. There really wasn’t any need for it after a certain point,” Chigusa said as a matter of fact. “At least, that’s what they said, and what’s public information.”

That’s odd. People don’t need new gaming consoles? Pretty sure these things were all the rage back then…

Kuroiwa looked up and wondered while asking Chigusa another question.

“So, what game consoles are popular right now?”

Chigusa pursed her lips and thought about it, then came up with an answer.

“I’m not a gamer, so I’m not too knowledgeable with the topic. Would you like me to run a search on it?”

Kuroiwa waved his hand and dissuaded her. “Nah, it’s alright. Besides, Shiyuri told us to not transmit anything while we’re here, right? I turned off my phone, too.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Chigusa softly. “You’re right. I almost forgot!”

“Y-yeah,” stuttered Kuroiwa. “We should probably drink our tea.”

“R-right!”

Inspecting the matching ornate, flowery painted designs of the three cups laid out on the small coffee table, while also observing the four pillows laying by that table, something nagged Kuroiwa at the back of his mind.

Shiyuri had a lot of paired or matching things in her home.

Was she expecting guests, perchance?

And just in time, Shiyuri emerged from the bathroom after ten minutes, dressed in a simple red button-up polo that is clearly a few centimeters too small for her bust, and a pencil skirt reaching up to her knees. She smelled of a gentle, fresh flowery scent, radiating even from a meter in the distance.

She sighed with relief and dried her silver cat-like ears with a small towel. “Nothing beats a warm bath in the autumn.”

Chigusa couldn’t help but stare in the direction of the scent. “You smell so good, Miss Shiyuri!” she said, complimenting her. “What kind of shampoo do you use?”

“Oh, I really don’t remember,” said Shiyuri with uncertainty. “A friend just recommended me a certain brand and I just buy it out of habit now.” She giggled at Chigusa, recalling something she had offered earlier. “If you had joined me in the bath, you could’ve tried it too.”

“Hold your horses,” interrupted Kuroiwa, arms crossed with a stern, no-frills voice. “Why don’t you just recall it from your memory banks or something?”

“I already told you. We can’t use any of our braintech right now or it transmits log data into the Cyberbrain.”

“What, just remembering connects you to the internet?”

“In some cases, yes.”

“Whoa,” said a shocked Kuroiwa. “If you’re not kidding, that sounds awful.”

A beat passed.

Shiyuri stared straight into an empty wall and sighed.

“Nah, I’m kidding. I remember. That doesn’t need any internet or anything,” she said with a giggle. “I’m just sure whoever’s writing right now has no idea how to name an original brand of shampoo.”

Kuroiwa cocked his head and looked at her hollow, steady eyes.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Anyway…”

Shiyuri booted up the old-looking PC between the bookshelves. With a gentle whirr and a beep, the computer came to life and booted up a traditional-looking desktop littered with a variety of application icons that Kuroiwa was familiar with. A 'Doors' interface it was called, as he remembered.

“Your OS looks pretty old...” commented Chigusa.

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Kuroiwa, who then eyed the rest of her apartment room once more. “And it's not just that. The rest of your room looks, uh... what was the word?”

Kuroiwa closed his eyes, trying to recall the words that Sei once used to describe his way of life and living. Then it came to him.

“...retro.”

Chigusa commented further as she observed Shiyuri scrolling through a multitude of programs with just a mouse and keyboard, without the use of any touchscreens.

“And you use PCs without touch nor mental interface, too?” asked Chigusa.

Shiyuri continued to crawl through files that Kuroiwa had no inkling of their function; to him, she looked like someone buying their time, pretending to look for something in their PC. But it was too early to tell, and he didn't want to call her out just yet and risk offending her.

“Technology can and will betray you,” said Shiyuri, eyes still glued to the monitor. “It's why I'd rather hang out with older tech. The bigwigs up in Neo Shibuya only usually track up-to-date technology to do their little eyespy with the general populace.”

Kuroiwa folded his arms and commented on something he found strange about all of this.

“Really? Then why'd you turn yourself into an android? With the latest, state-of-the-art tech too, mind you.”

Shiyuri did not answer. She stayed silent and her movements slowed its pace. It wasn't as if she ignored the question---quite the opposite. It struck something from within. Something that made her squirm in discomfort.

Even that was apparent to the Sweeper himself.

“What’s wrong, Miss Shiyuri?” asked Chigusa out of concern. “You’re just opening random files. Is there something—”

Shiyuri interrupted as a grieved expression crossed her face.

“I’ll be real with you both,” she said in a sad tone. “I’m an exile from Colony Tau. So this entire thing… it’s not that simple.”

“An exile? Is it because you’re…”

“...Someone who turned into an android, yes.”

Chigusa frowned as her concern deepened. She couldn’t help but feel a certain connection to Shiyuri at that exact moment. The feeling of exclusion was something too familiar with her, recalling the feeling as she stroked the side of her black face mask.

“I… see.”, nodded Chigusa.

Shiyuri stopped mindlessly scrolling around her computer and turned her swivel chair to face both of them. “I can send a message to Colony Tau from this PC and only this PC through a secure channel. But even then…”

Kuroiwa sighed and continued her train of thought. “There’s no guarantee they’ll let you in, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Then why don’t I just walk right over? You know where the place is, don’t you? Even if not for you, I can come in, can’t I? I’m human. Tell me where to go.”

“You can’t,” said Shiyuri forcefully. “They’ll shoot you on sight. Human or not, they’re distrustful of anything coming in without prior notice. That’s just how Colony Tau—no, any human colony is.”

Kuroiwa planted a palm on the side of his face. His disappointment was immeasurable.

“You know what? Just send the message. I don’t think there’s anything to lose here,” he said with an understanding yet disappointed tone. “Just explain the situation. If they let us in, cool. If not, well, we go back to our regular lives and pretend nothing happened here.

The entire loss is mine alone.”

“I suppose so.”

“You’re already exiled, anyway. The worst they can do is ghost you.”

A small red light flashed on the screen behind Shiyuri. She jumped at the sight of it and turned back to inspect what was going on.

The worst.

“Actually…” said Shiyuri, hopping out of her chair in a rush. She immediately began packing random foodstuffs into a duffel bag. “We’re in trouble already.”

“What’s going on?” asked Kuroiwa, who now began to sweat seeing how much in a rush the girl had gotten into.

“We have to go. Now.”

Shiyuri grabbed Chigusa’s hand and held it firmly onto her own. A mild surge of electrical currents ran through them, jolting Chigusa into an even more alerted state. A flood of data forcefully uploaded itself into her cyberbrain, inadvertently sending a signal to the central cyberbrain.

“Miss Shiyuri…! The signal!”

“I know, I know! Just make sense of it later!” she said in an urgent tone. “The signal doesn’t matter now. Somebody’s coming up.”

“Wait, what?” exclaimed Kuroiwa.

The entrance door crashed down with a thunderous boom, as an armored and helmeted humanoid, standing at least seven to eight feet tall, stormed in with heavyset steps. Its armor was of a pink-ish color, and despite its weight looked to be of a slender frame. Similar to that of Security Knight power armor, but much sleeker in design.

Kuroiwa pushed the girls aside and rushed to cover them. The armored lad then unsheathed a huge shock baton and swung it in the Sweeper’s direction. He dived right into the armor and tackled it with enough force to stagger them.

How did I not hear this guy coming?, he thought.

The armor took a step back and wound up another blow. As it swung, Kuroiwa dodged forward again. But this time it was ready.

It sidestepped his second tackle, then dropped its baton. It then grabbed Kuroiwa with both hands and threw him outside the room like a ragdoll. Kuroiwa crashed right into the railing and bruised his shoulder, the searing pain rushing into him like a rock had just clobbered him.

Without a moment’s repose, the armor hurled its fist straight at Kuroiwa. He rolled to the side as the fist bent the metal railing through sheer force alone.

Kuroiwa attempted to slide back, but the armored lad was quick. It dashed at inhuman speed right at him, grabbed him by the foot, then tossed him again onto another concrete wall. His body slammed into the concrete with enough force to crack it, but thankfully he was made of sturdier stuff.

Kuroiwa couldn’t help but feel like a Masked Rider being tossed around by the monster of the week before he could transform. But there was no transformation ready for him to turn this fight around.

He reached for the pistol within his coat. The armor noticed this and rushed at him with a kick. Its foot reached Kuroiwa’s hand before he could even aim it, and hurtled the gun several meters behind him. And even worse, the power of the kick itself fractured Kuroiwa’s fingers.

Kuroiwa howled in pain and clutched his hand, his digits feeling an intense burning and numbing sensation. The armor picked him up again and flung him onto a nearby wall. He felt the strain on every bone of his body as his body banged onto solid concrete.

He fell over and was brought to his knees, still clutching his hand. He winced in agony and could barely muster a breath. He looked up to his assailant, processing the kind of person he was even facing. The armored one flicked a button on its helmet, opening it and revealing the person inside. Short, green hair fluttered in the wind; a face with a motherly yet battle-hardened look to it. And now that he had noticed it, even the armor’s shade of pink was familiar despite the more form-fitting shape of it.

“Ser Kuroiwa! Your reflexes and endurance are as admirable as ever. You have not lost your touch at all.”

“Sei! What’re you—”

“How did you end up on the wrong side of the law?” asked Sei with a truly concerned expression. She propped Kuroiwa up back on his feet and clutched his shoulders. “Murai had tracked Nekolain into this location and, to my surprise, I find you here.”

Kuroiwa’s sight blurred. He struggled to keep his balance but soldiered on and planted himself firmly on the ground. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you cannot be Nekolain. You just cannot!” she interrupted him in a voice that exuded certainty. “You are not the type, Ser Kuroiwa. But I am aware that the crimson-haired one is the culprit. You are being deceived.”

“Ugh…” groaned Kuroiwa, trying to find a way to get out of this situation. He couldn’t think of anything but to compliment her in return. “Nice… armor, by the way.”

“Thank you. But I only wear this in an official capacity to arrest Nekolain,” she said casually, before snapping back into urgency. “But aside from that! Please make your escape from here posthaste. Or I shall be forced to detain you.”

“I can’t,” said Kuroiwa, shaking his head weakly. “I need the girl. She has something I need.”

“Whatever words she has told you, lies they all are, Ser Kuroiwa. That is what terrorists do.”

“I know, but… if there is even a sliver of a chance that the things she’s saying are true, then I’ll take it.”

Sei sighed. She pouted at the prospect of fighting a person she admired.

“If you try, are you aware you will have to battle me?”

“I don’t stand a chance, but I’ll take it.”

Sei strained a smile. “You clearly underestimate your odds, low as they may be.”

Kuroiwa could escape now, but that would mean losing his only chance of seeing this ‘Colony Tau’ Shiyuri spoke of. He knows what a liar looks like when he sees one, and for once, that unscrupulous, silver-tongued lady spoke the truth. There was no escape.

Only sallying forth.

He lunged for the gun behind him, but Sei caught his leg immediately and tossed him over her shoulder. Kuroiwa crashed down the hallway in the opposite direction past Shiyuri’s room.

He felt every bone in his body crunch, begging him to stop fighting and just run.

Kuroiwa got back onto his feet, barely keeping balance as his vision began to spin.

That’s when he heard a voice.

A familiar one.

“Sorry, Mister Kuroiwa.”

A metal needle dug lightly into his lower back, followed with a strong surge of electricity. It felt like burning. His muscles tensed up, and Kuroiwa could barely utter a grunt as powerful stun-gun finally brought him to his knees.

“Ch-Chigusa…” he moaned in agony. “Why…?”

Instead of an answer from Chigusa, it was the voice of a man that resounded instead. The gentle yet coarse voice of a friend with venom and anger in his voice. Looking back, he made out through his fading vision, that signature red suit and long hair.

Murai…

“Thank you, Code Reader. I am in your debt.”

Murai walked up and knelt to Kuroiwa’s eye level. He palmed Kuroiwa’s forehead and lifted it to look him straight in the eye. He could barely make out what kind of face he was making, but it was made crystal clear that the Lawyer pitied him.

“Dammit, Kuroiwa. When I heard the description of who Nekolain was hanging out with, I feared it would be you. And lo and behold.”

“I’ve no excuse,” Kuroiwa muttered with his fading breath. “And I don’t expect anyone to understand why I’m here. You’re on the right side of the law.”

“Of course,” said Murai regrettably. “Maybe I should’ve taken the pub invitation. You wouldn’t have been seduced by that witch’s infernal tongue if we’d just oogled the barmaids in Barkiss. That was my fault.

But this one was yours.”

Murai shoved him gently as he stood up and approached what looked to be an entire crowd of old people behind him—the same elderly that gave Kuroiwa and the two other girls mean stares throughout the day. They held up all sorts of makeshift melee weapons, and looked just about ready for a fight, their age making them not any worse for wear. Kuroiwa fell to the ground and watched his vision begin to truly fade into darkness.

And he heard one last sentence as his consciousness faded.

“Please put him somewhere where he can’t be a hindrance to us. Alive or dead is up to you.”