The Sweeper and the Last Life

The motorcycle roared across the highway, neon signs slowly being breathed into life as the golden sunset glared from the horizon. The citizens of Neo Shibuya began to go about their daily life, meandering to and from work, depending on what shift they worked. Each individual became nothing but a blur as Kuroiwa passed them on his bike at high speeds.

Tied to the front of his bike like a figurehead on the prow of a ship was Shiyuri. It hadn’t even been a few days and again she ended up on the front side of a motorbike.

“Oh, Sensei. When was the last time you tied me up and put me up on display? Shouldn’t you have a cooldown on these things?”

“Cooldown? What’re you babbling about?” asked Kuroiwa

“Oh please. I know Pops put you up to this. He’s telling you to do something insane, isn’t he? You really are just a monkey dancing to people’s tunes, aren’t you?”

“You bet he told me to talk to you. But all this? This entire ride is my idea, don’t make a mistake,” Kuroiwa said sternly. “Besides, is that any way to talk to the person that saved you a day or two ago?”

Chigusa wiggled in her ropes and scoffed. “Hah, saved me? I already told you I could outlast a raid like that. Just hide out for a few days and they’ll just give up, as usual.”

Kuroiwa recalled Murai’s demeanor.

“You’ve clearly never seen a man out for blood, before. Bet he would’ve ripped every single wall and door hinge in your apartment just to find you. His eyes told me it wouldn't be an ‘if’ he found you—but a ‘when’.”

“Sure. But then I’d just kill myself and start over before that. I’ve already reserved a place for my comeback that some lowly Lawyer wouldn’t touch.”

“So you’d end it just like that, huh?”

“And I’d come back. Easy.”

“You really think death is that simple?”

Shiyuri laughed as the engine’s roar masked the mocking mania in her laughter. To think she’d be afraid of death if she could just come back like the rest of Neo Shibuya. The thought was absurd. For her, it was nothing more than having multiple lives in a video game. Nothing a quick checkpoint or load game wouldn’t fix. A respawn, she thought.

“It is, isn’t it? I’ve already told you how hard I farm the people of Neo Shibuya. Lowly maggots who go about day to day, achieving nothing and slaving away for corporations like slaves. I’d even consider what I do for them a service.”

“And that makes it okay to do that to them?”

“Of course. You think the same way, don’t you? You kill indiscriminately and did so back in your era. What makes us different?”

“Tsk. We’ve already had this conversation.” Kuroiwa clicked his tongue, then turned the bike at an intersection with red lights at the corner from signs that said ‘stop’. “Every shot I made had a purpose, weight. No kill I made was indiscriminate. And maybe at the start, I saw everyone here as machines, but…”

“But?”

“Seeing you proved me wrong… because you’re as childish as they come.”

“Childish?” mocked Shiyuri. “What slander is this, Sensei?”

“You’re treating people’s lives like some game. You’ve even ended up treating your own like one. You don’t understand jack what all this means. Just a kid playing at higher concepts she barely understands.”

“It is like a game, Sensei. I’m not the only one who thinks so. People do stupid shit with their lives and throw it away, or just meander away at work grinding for money. For what purpose? Just for the heck of it. Neo Shibuya’s been stagnant for decades. What you see now is the same thing you’d see if you woke up twenty years ago. It’s just like grinding gear in an MMO, or trolling others until you get account-banned, and you make another account and try again; and this time under a VPN. It’s all fun. It’s all aimless.

So why not play it like a game? Why not have fun? There’s no consequence in it in the end.”

Kuroiwa sighed. “Death is terrifying. That’s what you inflict on people when you do your Nekolain stuff.”

“No, it’s not. We’ve solved that ages ago. You can come back however you want, as many times as you want. There is literally no penalty to dying, Sensei. So what if you get in debt? We have literal eternity to pay off everything, and then it’s back to living life. Then you die because a higher-up said we don’t deserve agelessness. But then you come back again. Rinse and repeat.

People were only afraid because they don’t know what happens when and after they die. Now we do. Get with the times, old man.”

“But you’re still scared.”

“What?”

“Your pops told me, you know. When we went to your apartment, I saw every single paired thing in it. Your tea sets, your game consoles, and the extra foldable bed. Death still scares you. You’re still waiting for your mother to come back. You want to play all those old ass games on your shelves. You want to have tea together again, sleep in the same room, all that jazz. But she ain’t coming back.”

Shiyuri looked at the sunset, feeling melancholic over past events she had already rebuked before.

“Such nonsense, Sensei. You’re talking as if I loved her. I didn’t. She was stupid. I’d already offered that we transition to android bodies, move to the next stage of humanity, but she was going over some shit about being pure and being worried that, if she moved her consciousness, she wouldn’t be the same mother that I had all those years. Her death is her fault. How could I possibly love her?”

“You’re lying. You could’ve easily moved out to a better neighborhood, or lived a different life. You keep coming back, hoping to come home to that small, cozy apartment room with her in it. And now you’re an android too, not because you wanted to evolve, but because you’re scared. Scared that when you die, that’s it. Your mother will be gone for good.”

“And now every ounce of fear is gone, Sensei. Whatever you’re trying to pull, stop it. It’s all useless.”

Kuroiwa grinned, and a small chuckle grew into riotous laughter, then stopped in a moment, as his feelings twisted his face back to a stern, serious one.

“You really are just like a kid. And I’ll show you what it really means to be one.”

Kuroiwa roared the engine to as high as the speed limit goes, accelerating further into the highway to nowhere.

*****

He stopped the bike at the start of the bridge. Before them was a long stretch of roadbridge. It was incomplete; around 300 meters away was a gap in the bridge, its construction long abandoned for god knows how long at this point. It stood near the end of Neo Shibuya, with nothing but overgrown woods awaiting past the 50-meter gap.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Shiyuri angrily.

Kuroiwa stretched out and relaxed his tired muscles.

“Let’s go. We’re gonna cross over.”

Shiyuri’s jaw dropped, and she stared at Kuroiwa’s relaxed expression. He cut the rope off Chigusa, then started rolling the motorcycle in the direction of the gap. Kuroiwa began sharing platitudes as the bike began to pick up speed.

“Real talk. Living in your modern age is hard. I keep jumping from job to job, and each one can barely pay me an entire month of decent food. Cup ramen is expensive, and a full square meal everyday might as well be a dream. Not to mention I probably missed my chance to score with a hot chick and will possibly never get the chance again. You haven’t even told me why you call me ‘Sensei’. It’s all so tiring.”

Shiyuri felt the bike lift ever so slightly as she gazed upon the road—or rather, the road that’s supposed to be there. With every passing second, the gap grew closer and closer. As the road deteriorated, so did Shiyuri’s sanity erode.

“Pshaw, I get it, Sensei. You’re gonna stop the bike just short of the gap. Heh, very funny. As if you’d actually do it. You can only die once, but I’m coming straight back up right after.”

Shiyuri looked back at Kuroiwa, but the only thing she could see was his look of resignation—as if the gap had hypnotized him to come closer. Her face grew grim as the only thing she could think was:

He’s serious, isn’t he?!

“You’re not scared, right?” jested Kuroiwa. “I’ve already died once. Smile, Shiyuri. Let’s add to that respawn count! Zero-deaths Nekolain!”

Kuroiwa lifted the bike at full speed, revving the engine to its utmost limit. And then…

He jumped the ravine, sending them and the bike flying into the sunset. The wind blew Kuroiwa’s hair like a shrub in a typhoon, a sense of euphoria overcoming him. Shiyuri spilled out from the bike and plunged forwards and downwards. The eyes of death gazed upon them, as time slowed to crawl for both.

The bike crossed ten meters, then twenty, then thirty, and then…

They lost momentum.

The bike started to drop, and so did they. Shiyuri expected water or a cushion underneath, but there was nothing but concrete. From their height, even a biomechanical body like hers would be reduced to nothing but splinters and blood.

She would, indeed, die.

Shiyuri’s body began to freefall. Her forward momentum ceased and it was all downwards from there.

Shiyuri then saw it all.

The image of her mother taking care of her all those years ago. The beautiful woman she knew, and the amazing person who gave to her every whim. Those times they played a retro fighting game on the Gamestation. All the tea they had. Those times Shiyuri got jealous of her mother for being as pretty as she was—after all, she had Shiyuri so early into her life.

Shiyuri didn’t even know who her father was.

But it didn’t matter. Her mother was all she needed. What more could she have wanted?

“Mom, you dumbo! Why won’t you upload your consciousness already?”

“I don’t know, Shiyu. Will I be the same person after?”

“Of course you will! You won’t have to worry about your sickly body, too.”

“I’d… rather go like this if ever. But don’t worry, your mom’s strong enough. Even if I catch a flu, I’d get right back up the next day.”

…

“Stop it, Shiyu! I don’t want to upload!”

“You’re an idiot, mom! This is the next step of evolution! You won’t have to worry about that thing you call an autoimmune disease anymore. It’s a thing of the past!”

“It’s my body and mind, Shiyu! Stop being selfish!”

“No, you’re selfish, mom!”

She thought she would experience those visions in the order she saw them. However, it all suddenly played in reverse. Every image flashed before her eyes, before finally remembering their most precious memory at the end of it all.

“Good night, Shiyu. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.”

Shiyuri burst into tears and yelled at the top of her lungs.

“Mommy!!”

She shouted and called as she fell to her death. Her shrieks were unholy. Her body unresponsive. Tears flew into the wind as her hair billowed like a sheet falling into a deep ravine. She cried and cried as begged for it to stop.

The motorcycle crashed to the ground, a powerful explosion emerging from its ruin.

Shiyuri then felt her momentum come to a halt while she still felt her legs suspended in the air. Kuroiwa’s arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her like a child. His arm strained to carry her, but she could feel the strength behind it.

“Heave, ho!”, the voice of two girls called out from above.

Kuroiwa had grappled to a net and caught Shiyuri a little over halfway through the drop, before they could enter terminal velocity. Lifting them up was Sei and Chigusa, using their momentous strength to easily retrieve the two fools who had just jumped the ravine.

“Heave, ho!”, they continued to shout.

Shiyuri continued to sob as she bit her finger. She couldn’t process anything around her except the urge to cry.

Kuroiwa sighed in relief, following with a bout of nervous laughter.

“Damn. That was close. I almost put a permanent stain in your record there. Too bad, though. You could’ve gotten rid of at least one annoying person in your life. His name, me!”

The net lifted them up, finally closing in on the girls.

“Who said she wasn’t afraid of death?” asked Kuroiwa, not expecting an answer. “Folks who take death lightly are so damn annoying.”

Sei grabbed Kuroiwa’s arm and pulled him up, finally placing both he and Shiyuri into safety.

“My, Ser Kuroiwa. I did not peg you to be so elaborate with your schemes.”

“T-that was too dangerous!”

Kuroiwa scratched his head as she sat on the edge of the bridge, setting down the still sobbing Shiyuri.

“Sorry. Let’s have a drink, shall we?”

*****

Nightfall.

They headed for an abandoned warehouse by the harbor and loitered just outside it. The sea was calm, and the moonlight shone upon its body. The gentle wind pushed the water against the seawall, creating a serene soundscape that calmed the senses.

Chigusa sat beside Shiyuri, who was draped in a warm blanket, at the edge of the harbor. Kuroiwa and Sei inspected the totaled bike he had driven off the bridge earlier.

Shiyuri sipped a warm cup of coffee Chigusa had heated for her. Chigusa smiled at her for a long time, sipping at her own coffee. Shiyuri became self-conscious at the staring.

“W-what’re you staring at?” asked Shiyuri bashfully.

“Are you feeling better, Miss Shiyuri?” inquired Chigusa in response. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Kuroiwa would do something so crazy.”

“It’s a whole load of bollocks, if you ask me.” Shiyuri took a big sip and scalded her tongue, though the pain didn’t faze her. “Ack, hot… Either way, no need to apologize. It’s that big lug that does.”

“So did it work?”

Shiyuri stared at the moon, deep in thought.

“I don’t know.” Shiyuri then turned to Chigusa with a tender look, the first anyone had seen of her. “You’ve had more Phoenix loops than me, Code Reader. So tell me: How did it feel coming back to life?”

Chigusa pushed a finger to her chin and wondered. “I don’t know either. I just kinda came to. I don’t have memories of my past life, either. People just kinda tell me what I did and who I was in due time, but that’s it. It’s mostly just the highlights of my life. And when you think about it, you never do get to know the nitty-gritty parts of your last life. The little things, you know?”

“Well, tell me the highlights then.”

Chigusa smiled nervously and laughed.

“I forgot.”

“Wait, how could you forget?”

“I was born clumsy and forgetful.” Chigusa tapped her head and bopped it, sticking her tongue out afterward in a silly way. “Some people are just made with bodies that simulate flaws in their body.”

Shiyuri sighed. “I guess when you custom order your body like mine, you don’t get that. That sounds so awful.”

“Yeah.”

“Deciding anyone should be born with defects like that… it’s a cruel joke.”

“Yeah…”

Chigusa giggled. And then right after, Shiyuri started to giggle too. They laughed at the absurdity of it all; even if they didn’t spell it out, it was as if their emotions were in sync—even without the help of any technology.

Kuroiwa and Sei approached the pair. Sei’s sides had been repaired, and over it was a strap of bandages that served no purpose, since her abdomen part was just replaced. Both of them held canned coffee of their own, though theirs was icy cold.

“You girls sound like you’re having fun. Mind if we sit in, or do you want us to leave?”

Shiyuri hissed and pouted, looking away from him with a reddened face. “Do what you want.”

Kuroiwa sat beside Shiyuri, and Sei followed, sitting beside Kuroiwa.

“Ser Kuroiwa, I am sorry to say, but that bike is beyond repair.”

“Yeah…” Kuroiwa scratched his head, ashamed of what he had done. “I’m sorry. If I get employed in my new job, I’ll probably pay it off in a year.”

“No, it is fine, Ser Kuroiwa. There is no need to pay for a gift; I believe you just have to live with the absence of a free ride.”

“It’s back to public transportation for me…” Kuroiwa groaned at the predicament.

The four sipped their coffee as they stared into the sea and the moon. The breeze blew past them and the waves crashed pleasantly, almost like music.

Shiyuri then broke the quiet.

“I haven’t cried like that since… ever,” she said with a relaxed breath. “But I feel relieved, somehow. I can’t believe you’d try something like that.”

Kuroiwa glanced at Chigusa and Sei, who gave him a knowing nod.

“You want to go back to that time, right? With your mom, I mean.”

Shiyuri scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I—”

“It’s alright to want it. I think everyone here wants to go back to a time they thought was the best of their life. And I mean everyone. But the most we can do is to move forward. Live out the life given to us the best we can.”

“Do you?” Shiyuri smiled naughtily at him, nudging him with her shoulder. “Are you sure you wanna go back to a time when you weren’t surrounded by three marginally attractive women?”

“Oh, fudge off.” Kuroiwa rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to be deep here.”

“You can say she’s cramping your style, Ser Kuroiwa.”

“Not you too…”

Kuroiwa adjusted his business coat and necktie. He cleared his throat and assumed a smile through a serious face.

“Fine. You want it that way, I’ll tell you a little story about how I discovered you folks are humans like me.”

Chigusa jumped with joy. “Oh, oh! It’s Kuroiwa storytime again!”

“You make me sound like an old man…”

Sei turned to Kuroiwa, intensely interested. “Go on. I am curious as well.”

Kuroiwa cleared his throat again and organized his thoughts. He emptied his coffee can and turned to the moon before him.

“So before the raid on Shiyuri’s apartment, as a human, I’ve my needs. Before I went to collect weapons from my house, I had to go really, really bad in transit. So I went and took a shit in a public bathroom.”

“Gross.” Shiyuri groaned.

Kuroiwa continued his en-’grossing’ tale. “So I sat down in the cubicle and did my business. I looked around the stall and you know what I saw?” Kuroiwa laughed, recalling the sight of the dirty bathroom stall. “I saw drawings of dicks and phone numbers all over the wall. There was even a hole between cubicles—its purpose I will not mention. And that’s when it kicked in. Even centuries after my time, people are still drawing phallic imagery on bathroom walls. Given, I only saw that abroad, not much in Japan, but the point still was clear as day to me.

Even historical records from Pompeii's ruins corroborate it. Humanity will always draw dicks and post their numbers in the stall for a booty call. Humanity will always be humanity, no matter how far in the past, or how far in the future we’ll go.”

The three girls eyed just stood in disbelief. A moment passed, then another of sheer silence and astonishment. And then finally, it broke.

“Eww! So gross!” Chigusa chuckled and stood up, stepping away from Kuroiwa. Shiyuri also stood up and started playfully kicking him away. Sei backed off as well and smiled worryingly.

“Sensei, that’s so disgusting. Please never tell this story ever again.”

“My my, Ser Kuroiwa. You’ve such interesting stories to tell to a group of ladies.”

Kuroiwa shrugged and slapped his thigh. “Oh come on, it was a good story.”

Shiyuri tugged Chigusa’s arm and pouted at Kuroiwa, as if she was protecting the girl from some threat to the human race. “Come on, Chigusa, let’s leave this guy and let’s go do our laundry instead.”

Chigusa froze in place. “Wait…” she said. “Miss Shiyuri, you just called my name!”

“Oh… yeah, guess I did.”

She then embraced Shiyuri and rubbed her cheek. “Thank you! Please use my name from now on!”

“Ugh, too close…”

Kuroiwa looked to Sei, who was backing away slowly from him.

“Hey, come on. Back me up a little, Sei.”

Sei giggled nervously in jest. “I am sorry, Ser Kuroiwa. But I am afraid I will have to agree with Ser Shiyuri. It would be best if you not disclose that again.”

Kuroiwa stood up suddenly. The girls began backing off from him and circling him as he tried to approach them. The three girls embraced each other close while they avoided the man who had just told them his wretched tale. Each time Kuroiwa closed in, the girls would scamper about in arms length and shout playfully.

“Alright, fine, no more storytime from me!”

*****

Shinada the dog watched the four frolic from a distant hill, hiding behind a tree as he grew amused at the outcome of the entire ordeal. His phone module rang in his head, and he tapped the side of his head to answer the call.

On the side of the call was Dr. Sawa.

“So you called back, Sawa.”

“Of course I did. I’m curious how my little accident turned out.”

Shinada laughed. “He’s in good hands. Don’t worry, I think everything will come together soon.”

He lifted his dog hands and looked at a printed file of Kuroiwa’s ID and resume. Stamped on it was a red holographic stamp mark, with a strange, symbolic abbreviation on it that spelled out ‘N-SCA’.

“Glory to the Resistance, Sawa.

He’s hired.”