Chapter 57: Access

Mataguchi’s monologue, POV

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Before the technician could manufacture an acceptable semantic detour to bridge the logic gap, a series of male researchers emerged from a nearby conference room, breaking the tension.

”Hey, is that the prodigy?” one of the male scientists called out, waving casually as he approached.

”Mataguchi! Good to see you. Tell me your project statistics are looking better than mine… the board has been breathing down our necks all week.”

I turned my head toward the newcomer, calibrating my response with absolute economy. “The statistical probability of your department meeting the quarterly quota is currently thirty-one percent, provided you alter your primary algorithm sequence.”

”Good afternoon, Dr. Vance.”

Dr. Vance let out a dry, weary laugh, shaking his head. “Still as blunt as ever. Never change, kid.”

By the time I turned back to address the two maintenance workers, the alcove was completely empty. They had dissolved back into the labyrinthine corridors of the facility, leaving behind only the faint hum of the overhead ventilation and the sprawling, silent glow of the holographic monitors.

I adjusted my T-shirt collar by a single millimeter, my expression entirely unchanged, and continued my walk straight toward Mrs. Suzanne’s office.

The heavy, sound-insulating door of the executive suite hissed shut behind me, instantly sealing away the artificial hustle of the administrative corridors.

The room was vast, dominated by a curved panoramic wall of smart-glass displaying the sprawling skyline of the near-future metropolis below, amber twilight bleeding into the cool blue of evening. Holographic schematics drifted silently above a massive obsidian desk, casting a low, rhythmic pulse of light across the minimalist interior.

Seated behind the desk was Suzanne.

Her posture was immaculate, her silver-rimmed glasses catching the ambient glow of the displays. Her long wolf-cut yellow hair and lashes were all contrast to her dark eyes.

As I stepped further into the room, she lowered her stylus, her sharp, intelligent eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that could cut glass.

”You’re a difficult man to schedule, AI,” Suzanne murmured, a low, melodic purr lining her words. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips, though her gaze scanned over me like a high-speed diagnostic scan.

What now? She’s calling me that too?

Yesterday I could still recall Aki calling me a robot too.

”Or should I say, Mrs. Kahori’s proxy? Rumor has it you only surfaced from your academy schedule because she specifically requested an audit.”

What a rumor. I only did it like twice and it’s already a regular activity to some individuals.

I maintained a measured distance, my arms hanging with mechanical ease, my half-lidded eyes fixed on her. “The parameters of my visit were dictated by research-based and personal necessity. Kahori’s absence necessitated an alternate point of contact for data verification.”

Suzanne let out a soft, breathy laugh, leaning forward and resting her chin on her interlaced fingers.

The professional veneer slipped just enough to reveal the sharp edge of obsession beneath—a heavy, suffocating devotion that hummed quietly in the air whenever we were alone.

”Necessity,” she repeated, tasting the word. She stood up, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she closed the distance between us.

She stopped just inches away, close enough that the faint scent of sterile ozone and sharp perfume filled my optical sensors. Her hand rose, her fingertips brushing lightly against the collar of my shirt, lingering near my pulse point.

”You didn’t miss me at all, did you? Not a single thought wasted on my absence.”

At this point I felt strange. Part of me wanted to hold her tightly, while the other just remained dominant.

”Human emotional frameworks do not quantify absence as a measurable variable,” I replied, my voice flat, steady, and entirely devoid of inflection.

I didn’t want to put my mind into what was going on.

Her dark-flecked eyes narrowed with dark amusement, a shiver of pleasure seeming to ripple through her at my cold detachment. “You never change. That’s why I keep your clearance active.”

Her breaths were weirdly hot; I could feel her body temperature from where I stood. She was around twenty-four years of age, so of course I was very curious about her body.

Not to mention we had gone as far as to cross that line in the past, but now was not the time.

I know I might make her this way, but this wasn’t a sight I was necessarily proud of seeing.

She stepped closer still, her body pressing lightly against mine in a display of calculated intimacy, blurring the line between professional superior and something far more dangerous.

She wasn’t blushing or embarrassed in the slightest. She considered me her lover or mate, so this sort of closeness between us was normal to some extent.

We stood in the quiet sanctum of her private office, surrounded by encrypted terminals, engaging in a delicate dance of subtext and emotional proximity. The ambient hum of the facility seemed miles away. From behind her chair I could see the sky through the bulletproof glass, which I could view clearly. But from Suzanne’s actions, it seemed she had turned on the privacy settings.

I shifted my focus to the objective that brought me here.

”I require a low-level research dossier from my restricted archive,” I stated plainly, my tone dropping into its usual business-like cadence. “Level-two experimental protocols concerning the recent anomalies.”

I had already told Suzanne and Kahori-san about my research and investigations, but of course I didn’t tell them the real nature of it—just that it was hard to track.

From their perspective, I must have sounded like a child doing kids’ experiments. Kahori-san’s reaction was not to spoil my fun.

But Suzanne…

Suzanne’s hand froze against my collar. Her smile faltered, her mind immediately analyzing the implications of my request. Direct rules flashed in the background of our conversation; the system barred her from transferring classified archives without explicit operational authorization.

”You know I can’t just log that file out, Mataguchi,” she whispered, her voice dropping an octave, laced with caution. “And… you haven’t explained why you need telemetry data from sector twelve. That’s outside your jurisdiction.”

Sector twelve?

She walked back to her seat.

I see. Kahori-san must have told her.

I walked closer to her, standing beside her while she sat down.

I held her gaze, my lifeless, hollowed eyes reflecting her silhouette. “The parameters of my objective require immediate access to those files. The institutional firewalls are currently blocking my direct route.”

She bit her lower lip, torn between the rational security protocols of the facility and the compulsive need to appease me. Her intellect warred with her attachment, the latter rapidly winning out.

”You’re playing a dangerous game, AI,” she murmured softly, her fingers raising up to grip the fabric of my sleeve. “If the board traces this transfer back to my terminal…”

Of course she would be worried about the school’s interference. Karafuguru has complete access to every facility and infrastructure in this designated location.

The cameras in the building are listening devices used for the “Lex Veritas Protocol” and visual watching, so our current conversation right now is being watched and listened to closely by the system.

Still, I hadn’t mentioned what I came here for; I’m sure Suzanne understands what I’m doing.

It was a restricted archive meant for me; the meaning could mean anything. As long as I don’t show it to the cameras or it’s not an illegal substance, we should be fine.

Funny how they don’t react to physical contact or illegal acts as long as it’s not spotted by a third party.

”You will not be implicated,” I replied smoothly, omitting any mention of my actual destination or the third-party network I intended to route the data through. “The access logs will reflect a routine diagnostic scrub initiated by system maintenance.”

Suzanne stared at me for a long, silent moment, recognizing the omission instantly, yet choosing to accept it. With a reluctant sigh, she turned back toward her terminal, her fingers flying across the holographic interface to bypass the security layers.

”Fine,” she muttered, authorizing the transfer under a general research tag. “I’ll upload the archive to a secure drive. But you’ll have to send me the exact analytical parameters later. I want to know every single byte you pull from this.”

”Understood,” I said.

Why all this long security assurance? I just wanted a few things.

As the secure file packet finished downloading to my portable node, Suzanne reached out and tapped the wall-mounted screen behind her, switching the display from architectural blueprints on a normally transparent window showing the city view outside to a live afternoon news broadcast.

Her eyes shifted to me for a second longer. I immediately bent down, bringing her face to mine, and kissed her.

Her lips were warm and soothing, completely melting into contact. Her tongue slipped out into my mouth, which I responded to in turn by doing the same. Slowly, her arms reached for my jacket, her grip tightening.

I slowly opened my eyes, seeing hers closed. She looked innocent, almost like a child.

I slowly pulled away from her. Her mouth ached for more as her hands were still holding tightly to my jacket, her eyes slowly opening.

Immediately she realized her actions and became embarrassed, hiding her mouth with her hand, her eyes directed to the side. I slowly leaned closer to her ear.

”Thanks,” I whispered.

”W-whatever…” she stuttered.

”What?” I asked, noticing her embarrassed look. Was she trying to recover immediately?

”I-I bet you do this with every girl at school…”

Where did that come from?

”No, it’s unnecessary. I don’t feel that way for the others.” Upon hearing what I’d said, she smiled.

”What a ladykiller,” she murmured to herself, turning her embarrassment elsewhere while she played with her hair with her fingers.

No longer called “AI.”

The anchor’s tense face filled the screen, accompanied by bold graphic banners.

BREAKING NEWS: METROPOLITAN POLICE REPORT MULTIPLE DISAPPEARANCES OVER PAST 72 HOURS. INVESTIGATORS CONFIRM SEVERAL NEW LEADS SURROUNDING SECURE SECTOR PERSONNEL.

”Several disappearances…” I repeated.

Seventy-two hours? This wasn’t in the news before now. Were they covering it up for the public first?

After a brief silence, Suzanne crossed her arms, turning back to look at me, her expression hardening with genuine concern mixed with an unsettling protectiveness.

”Be careful, Mataguchi,” she warned, stepping back into my space, her voice dropping to a low, intense whisper. “The security forces are expanding their radius, and they’re looking at everyone with high-level access.”

Security forces… high-level access… I see this news has reached Suzanne before, which meant they were really covering it up before.

”If you get cornered… call me immediately. If anyone touches a hair on you, I’ll tear that entire facility down to the foundation.” She seemed very serious about it.

I offered no verbal confirmation, simply pocketing the data drive as the screen continued to flash images of the police investigation.

“Man created mirror but still uses filters, because the mirror were too honest.”