The Unsterile, Chapter 2, Part 2

5nd of February, 2389.
Present Day.

Yuki eyed the two men lined up next to him. Yuki was sixteen and the men didn't look more than a few years older than he was. He couldn't help but notice that they were too clean, too pale, and too itchy to be wearing farmer's clothes. Their untanned skin did not match their weathered blue overalls nor did their back posture seem fitting for someone who would spend their days hunched over plants.

The row of petitioners had gathered in the grassy meadow for Kami's apprenticeship ceremony. Kami was the god of knowledge and his mentoring was highly sought after. Many of the other petitioners were princes and heirs to major multinationals. The two farmers on his right were a sad sight indeed. Each petitioner had knelt before a tribute laid out on the ground in hopes that Kami would select them. The farmers had brought a partially burnt book.

"Tell my idiot son that because he used military vehicles to escape a girl, he'll be training recruits for the next six months."     said the big farmer who was reading from a holophone. It was the kind that Yuki had only ever seen on wealthy tourists. Wealthy tourists and the other petitioners, that is. Were they soldiers in disguise? Bringing weapons into the Demilitarized Zone carried the penalty of death. They weren't disguised very well if they openly spoke about military matters.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."     The other farmer replied, lifting his palms up and shrugging.    "I really didn't feel like messing around with a Type C Yandere."

"The Yandere Life Cycle has been dismissed by most moe scholars as a lazy pseudoscience."     The larger farmer said as he rolled his eyes and scoffed.     "The entire theory of partner N-count as a predictor of Yandere brain chemistry is retarded."

"It's a fairly accurate indicator. I've been on the receiving end of enough Yandere girls to attest to it,"     replied the farmer with glasses rather matter of factly.     "It totally makes sense that there exists a factor can result in completely different Yandere behavior even in the same individual."

As Yuki knelt besides the stone path leading to Kami's shrine, he was out of place in the line-up. He felt the itchy gaze of the gathering of curious villagers who had come to gawk at the petitioners and their various treasures. Yuki had been woken up extra early this morning. It should have been a clue when Ren made him go to bathe in the morning rather than the afternoon following midday sweat, but he thought nothing of it. Yuki promised to accompany Ren on this trip and to see it through without being told what the trip was. They brought with them only a clear plastic bag of cranes.

"Correlation does not prove causation,"     retorted the prettier farmer.     "It's confirmation bias at best. If you expect a Type O Oxytocin Yandere to be affectionate, idealistic maidens, you will reinforce your own expectations of it for every Yandere girl with N less than 2."

"Correlation does not prove causation, yes, but correlation IS required evidence when making a case for causation,"     answered the glasses farmer. He spoke as a kind of challenge but it was also a kind of laziness towards having to think critically for himself and outsourced it to his friend.

"Fine, but do you really believe that every Yandere girl with N between 2 and 8 has to be a Type D Dopamine."

"No, but multiple studies have confirmed that the ability to pair-bond and maintain stable relationships drastically declines as partner count increases. Likewise, it does explain why Type D Yandere girls exhibit drug addict behavior."

"It's a stupid theory."

The farmers had brought a book that was burned at the very bottom edge that formed little charred tendrils that crept up a third of the way across the cover. The writing was something he had never seen. Each word was made of individual letters, each of which was a set of dots interconnected with lines. Three dots joined by three lines. Four dots joined by six lines. Four dots joined by four lines in the formation of an hourglass. Where was the book from?

"It perfectly explains why some Yandere girls kill themselves when cheated on. Because they are Type Oxytocin, they are idealistic, inexperienced, and direct their pain inward. It explain why some Yandere girls kill the other girl when cheated on. Because they are Type Dopamine, they are territorial, experienced, and direct their pain externally. It explains why some Yandere girls kill the cheater when cheated on. Because they are Type Cortisol, they are bitter, vengeful, and pain driven. The O-D-C life cycle theory has it's flaws but a flawed theory is still better than none at all, and certainly invites future refinement."

"I think I'm so used to being embarrassed being with you in public that these kind of topics don't even phase me anymore. "

"What else is there to talk about? Your sister?"

"FUCK. YOU."

The farmer must have noticed Yuki watching him. After adjusting his black rimmed glasses, he smiled and introduced himself.     "Hello there. I'm Miyazuki Satoshi."

"Hello. I'm Yuki."

"That's quite a bag you have there. Must be a thousand cranes inside."     The farmer pointed at the mass of paper jumbled in front of Yuki. It was certainly a curious sight to see tribute worth less than a billion yen, but stranger things have happened.

"I guess."

"I have just the thing."     said the farmer. He dug into his backpack and produced a bento box. It was polished and lacquered wood with a blackened red color. It was also very heavy for wood. Had Yuki an eye for such things, he would have concluded that no sane person would make a bento box out with Chinese Zitan except to show off that he could afford to do so.     "You can weigh the bag down with this so the wind doesn't blow it away."

"Thank you."     Yuki received the box with both hands, as was tradition. He bowed his head slightly and placed the box atop the twisted mouth of the plastic bag. It would suffice to keep the opening sealed and beyond the reach of the day's gentle breeze.

"Do you live nearby? I'd like to retrieve the box after the ceremony, of course."

Yuki pointed to the cemetery on the hill.     "I live by the shrine on that hill up -"

Yuki was interrupted by the shouting of the first petitioner. It was the prince who was kneeling in front of a metal box.     "One crate of gold bars as tribute if you will accept me as your apprentice."

Kami was an old man with the posture of a younger man. His back did not bend nor his muscles wither with age, yet his skin bore the weather and sun of centuries. He had a scar running from the top left of his forehead to his right cheek, above which his face was smooth and young. It was where an artillery shell had decapitated Kami and he regenerated a new brain. Luckily, his memories were redundantly stored on backup servers.

Kami wore the yellow and black robes of a monk. The loose layers of flowing cloth made sense for the god of knowledge. It was functional in that it projected an aura of sanctity and made the superstitious folk more agreeable. He nodded in acknowledgement and continued on.

The second petitioner was the son of a wealthy business man. He knelt before a large glass container holding a single ginseng plant. Ginseng was a medical plant, whose potency increased with age. It was planted in transparent hydroponic beads so that the root could be seen without damaging the plant. This one had a main root was the size of a rooster and branched off into tiny hairs.     "One living ginseng plant, five hundred years old, as tribute if you will accept me as your apprentice."

The third petitioner was the son of the nearby warlord, Daimyo Akane. Before him was a square display holding an old ion cannon. It was an aluminium cylinder the length of a horse that had been set to wheels. Ion cannons were designed to strike the metal armor of a vehicle with charged particles and zap the circuits inside, allowing for easy scavenging of the intact chassis in the disabled vehicle.     "One decommissioned ion cannon if you will accept me as your apprentice."

The fourth petitioner was the pair of farmers. The smaller farmer with glasses shouted.     "One martian journal, dated 2373, if your will accept me as your apprentice."

Kami paused for a moment. He had all of Earth's knowledge downloaded, but this was a book from Mars. It was not unheard of for Martian criminals to hide on Earth. Perhaps one of them got unlucky with the orbital shrapnel and got wrecked. It would be possible for small bits of debris to survive the wreckage if it was stored inside a sturdy container. But what would a criminal be doing with a journal? And to be desperate enough to flee THROUGH the orbital shrapnel? He tilted his head to read the martian words on the cover, "Colony Mutation Rates - Dr. Dennis Snow". Kami nodded in acknowledgement and forced himself to continue on.

Ren lifted his head and looked right into Kami's eyes.     "One thousand cranes, folded from hundred yen notes, if you will accept my son Yuki as your apprentice."

Kami took note of the one hundred thousand yen. It was enough to buy a cow, or maybe a couple of nights stay at a fancy hotel. The ginseng plant was worth billions of yen.     "It is an old story that folding a thousand cranes grants a single wish. But not all wishes are equal. I refuse to grant wicked or frivolous wishes."

"Kami-sama. Thirty four years I have kept the cemetery and perhaps thirty four year more."     Ren began. He spoke with downcast eyes, afraid to look too closely at the world. It was a world from which he had come to expect hardship and it had never disappointed in that regard. "But this is not the life for Yuki. Living on donations, scrounging for things. He needs a better life than this."

Ren could only stare down at his pitiful tribute. It was hard nine years of his life gathered within a clear plastic garbage bag. Nine years of cuts and scrapes on his fingers. Nine years of strained shoulders and lower back pain. Nine years of corns and bruises. Nine years of burns and blisters. It was every odd job or errand he could beg for.

Ren bowed until his head pressed against the ground. He righted himself to look up at Kami and continued.     "Every day I watch him grow up more and more like me. Every day I have to watch him sweep the floors, clean the graves, and scavenge for discarded things. Every day."

Ren could feel the hot swelling of his eyes as he spoke. Yuki was at once his greatest joy, his greatest fear, and his greatest failure. Ren knew that he himself was the reason that Yuki worked instead of going to school. He himself was the reason that Yuki could not go live a normal life. Ren himself was the reason the roof leaked, the clothes were worn, the food was sparse. He barely had enough money to keep the two of them fed. He was a failure of a man and Yuki suffered for it.

Ren bowed his head a second time all the way to the ground. Again, he righted himself and continued.     "My heart can not take this. More and more, every day he becomes me. He does not deserve this life."

Every day was another search for odd jobs, for scavenge, for some little windfall to smooth over the next expense. Every day was a constant reminder, a constant sight of other families and other children. The burden of failure, Ren's failure, hung across his shoulders like weighted chains. What cruel world would let Yuki bear the consequences of Ren's shortcomings? It is not right.

Ren bowed a third time and did not rise. He could not bear to see the world. He could only feel his heart shackled to the ground beneath him. He could neither face the world within his burning shame nor face the son he had failed so many times.     "Please. Take Yuki away. Save him from me. Kami-sama. Please."

The brown dirt turned black beneath his eyes. He faced the ground, kneeling in near silence with only the rustle of leaves and grass. He could not rise. Every day was a test of courage against a life of struggle and disappointment. Ren had finally run out of courage to lie to himself. This time things will work out. Ren did not know if it would, but the heat dripping from his cheeks let him know he didn't have the strength to try again.

Kami was not impressed. What was one human life? Kami had outlived everyone he knew and would outlive everyone he will ever know. There lived over two billion humans on Earth and 76 of them died every minute. It was unfortunate that he was trapped on this planet and would have to get along with the humans. As such, he needed to at least pretend to care about them. He could not refuse this charity case without damaging his reputation.     "Very well, I will accept this tribute. The rest of you may leave."

As the petitioners pushed themselves to a standing position, the smaller farmer spoke in a whisper to the larger farmer.     "Let's hope that Yuki can afford a team of bodyguards, because Akane looks angry enough to kill."