Parasite in Love

Chapter 2: Computer Worm

It's difficult to explain the eeriness of an intercom echoing in the dead of night to someone who's never experienced it.

You're relaxing, defenseless, in a completely silent room. Suddenly, the silence is broken by an inorganic sound notifying you of a visitor. For a moment, your thoughts halt. You check the clock, and indeed, it's clearly no time for a person to be visiting. Your head fills with questions and doubts. Who? Why now? For what purpose? Did I lock the door? What about the chain lock?

You hold in your breath, listening for the person beyond the door to enter. How much time has passed? It could be seconds, it could be minutes. You timidly go to the front door and look through the peephole, and a mysterious stranger appears and leaves without leaving any hints. It ends with everything still up the air, and the echo of that ill-omened electronic noise continues for the rest of the night...

It was a visit without any forewarning.

At the time the intercom rang out, Kousaka was cleaning his computer keyboard. The PFU-made keyboard had no markings on the tops of the keys, and not from being rubbed away by repeated cleaning, but because it was designed that way. He'd taken out and washed all the keys just last week, but he just had to do a thorough cleaning after every use.

A table clock showed it as past 11 PM. Before he could even think about who it might be at this hour, Kousaka's smartphone, which had been charging on the desk, vibrated. He intuitively realized that the corresponding timing of the intercom and the email was not a coincidence.

He picked up the smartphone and checked the new email.

Open the door. I have no intention of hurting you.

I want to talk about viruses.

He looked up and glanced in the direction of the front door. His apartment wasn't equipped with orthodox systems, and it was easy for intruders to enter the building without being tenants. The person who sent the text was likely already standing outside the room - at nearly the same time he realized this, there was a knock on the door. It wasn't a rough knock, but a kind of knock that was for letting your presence be known.

Kousaka stared at the phone in his hand, wondering if he should call the police. But the message displayed there gave him pause.

"I want to talk about viruses."

He definitely had some idea about what that message could mean.

Kousaka first acquired an interest in malware three months ago, in the close of summer 2011. One day, he received a text from an unfamiliar address on his phone.

"The world will be ending very soon."

An ominous message. But at the time, as he was feeling uncomfortable with what was now his fourth job and disheartened, the message was somewhat refreshing.

Kousaka closed his eyes, and briefly enjoyed a vision of the world ending. The sky turned red, sirens wailed through town, unhappy news played on the radio. He imagined the scene at length.

It may sound absurd, but Kousaka was saved by that imprudent message. A baseless consolation, effectively a lie, was just what he needed at the time.

When he looked it up later, he found the message was forcibly sent from a device infected with malware called "Smspacem." Malware is a programming term referring to malicious software or programs that cause computers to behave irregularly. Most people refer to all such things as "computer viruses," but technically, a virus is no more than a sub-category of malware.

To describe Smspacem briefly, it's "malware that informs people the world is ending." Infected devices, on the date 5/12/2011, were made to send a message about the world ending to all addresses on their contact list.

According to security reports, Smspacem was malware that targeted users in North America. So the fact that a similar message in Japanese was sent to Japan-dwelling Kousaka in late September meant there was probably some curious sort who made a Japanese-centric variant of Smspacem.

Once, while lazily lying in bed after quitting his job, Kousaka suddenly recalled Smspacem. And he thought: I wonder if I could make something like that myself? I wonder if I could reproduce, in a different form, that sensation of a little seam forming in my ordinary life?

Luckily, he had plenty of time. So Kousaka picked up the knowledge needed to create malware. He had a base of knowledge and experience from working as a programmer, so in just a month after he began studying, he completed some original malware that didn't depend on any toolkits.

I think I'm suited for this field, Kousaka thought. He had a talent for finding the best algorithm for a problem without anyone teaching it to him. A rare example of born punctuality and perfectionism working in a positive way.

Before long, the malware he created began to appear in security reports by major software corporations. This spurred Kousaka to begin the creation of new malware. At some point, creating malware became the one thing he lived for.

An ironic turn of events. A person who on one hand was so scared of viruses and insects in the real world that he found it hard to live, meanwhile found something to live for in creating viruses and worms in the virtual world.

As he faced his computer and typed on his keyboard, Kousaka sometimes thought: Maybe I'm convinced my genes won't be left behind in this world, which is why I'm spreading self-replicating malware across the internet instead.

There are actually various things which are considered malware. Traditionally, malware is divided into three categories: viruses, worms, and trojans. But over the years, malware has gotten more complex, and with the appearance of malware that doesn't fit into the traditional categories comes new definitions like backdoor, root kit, dropper, spyware, adware, and ransomware.

The simple three categories of malware - virus, worm, and trojan - are relatively easy to understand the differences between. First of all, viruses and worms both have self-infecting and self-multiplying abilities, but viruses must inhabit other programs to exist, whereas worms can exist independently without a host. Trojans are distinguished from viruses and worms by a lack of self-infecting and self-multiplying.

The Smspacem that got Kousaka interested in malware would be defined as a worm. It collects email addresses from an infected computer, sends out many emails with copies of an illegal program attached, and repeats the process with those infected to spread further - this is known as a mass mailing worm.

This was, naturally, the kind of malware Kousaka developed as well. He gave the mass mailing worm he was working on the codename "SilentNight."

SilentNight was a worm that attacked on a set date. Starting up on 5 PM on December 24th, it disabled transmission functions on infected devices for 2 days. To be more exact, it ended all transmissions as soon as they began. As a result, the owner of the infected device would be temporarily deprived of not only phone calls, but emails, texts, online call services - any means of communication.

The codename SilentNight, then, was a play on how it was both a virus that activated on Christmas Eve, and one that took away communication from friends or loved ones, forcing them to spend a quiet Christmas night alone.

At the end of November, SilentNight was completed at last. Kousaka spread the mobile worm across the network. Depending on how you think of it, this could be called the beginning of everything. It was only a few days later that he realized what a fateful downward current he was stepping into.

The intercom sounded again. Kousaka stood up from his work chair. He felt like he might regret it if he pretended to be out. If he didn't clear up the visitor's identity and purpose here and now, he'd no doubt be tormented by an unfathomable unease in the weeks to come. And at any rate, they already knew his address and email, so it would be futile to hide.

The door camera was broken, so he'd need to look through the peephole to see his visitor's face. He cautiously left the living room and stood at the front door. Peeping through, he saw a man wearing a coat over a dark suit. Seeing the outfit, Kousaka's wariness lessened slightly. Certain suits and uniforms have a power of putting people at ease unconditionally.

After checking that the chain lock was on, he opened the door. As if anticipating that he'd be received from behind the chain lock, the man had moved to a position opposite the crack in the door.

The man was a good few inches taller than Kousaka. Kousaka was 5'8", which meant this man was 6' or more. He also had a solid physique. The Chester coat he wore over his suit may have originally been black, but appeared gray from dirtiness. His eyes had deep bags, and his jaw was covered with an unkempt beard, with white hairs mixed among oily ones. He had a friendly-looking smile, but his eyes seemed hollow.

"Hey," the man said. His voice was low and hoarse, but strong.

"Who would you be?", Kousaka asked over the chain. "What do you want at this hour?"

"Just like the email said. I want to talk about viruses."

Kousaka gulped. "Did you send that email?"

"Right," the man affirmed. "Can I come in? You don't want to be asked about it either, do you?"

Kousaka reached for the chain, then hesitated. True, like he said, he didn't want to be asked about it. But there was no guarantee that it was safe to let him in. From his clothes and vibe, Kousaka instinctively supposed that the man before him, if he was so inclined, could twist his arm with no difficulty. That he was used to such actions, and preferred easily-understood body language to annoying communication. He was ready to respond violently at any moment depending on my actions.

"You seem wary," the man said, seeing Kousaka's unease. "Well, maybe it'll be easier to talk that way rather than trying to relax. I don't intend to act in a rough way, but I guess you won't believe that from my mouth."

Kousaka's focus instantly turned to the room. And once more, the man saw right through him via his minor actions.

"Relax, I know about your cleanliness. I won't come past the entryway."

Kousaka was speechless, and his lip quivered.

"...You know that much?"

"Yeah. Now won't you let me in already? I'm freezing out here."

Kousaka hesitated, but finally gave up and carefully released the chain lock. True to his word, the man didn't set foot beyond the entryway, closed the door behind him, leaned on it, and sighed. He started to take a cigarette out of his pocket, but noticed Kousaka watching and put it away.

"It's not just you, really... Lots of young people these days like to be clean," the man said as if to himself. "I guess it figures since they're selling a product, but if you just look at commercials, it feels like everything is dirty. Sofas and mattresses are full of ticks, cutting boards and sponges are full of bacteria, smartphones and keyboards get dirty with use, your mouth after waking up smells worse than a steaming pile..." As he spoke, he took a lighter from his pocket and flicked it. "But since all that stuff surrounds us, I guess that means we've always been fine with it? Then isn't there nothing to worry about? I guess it's just what companies do. People make up problems that don't even exist."

Kousaka pressed him to get to the point. "...What did you want to talk about?"

"I'm here to threaten you," the man replied just as directly. "Kengo Kousaka, what you're doing is a clear criminal act. If you don't want to be prosecuted, you'll listen to what I say."

Kousaka kept silent. It was so sudden that he couldn't quite keep up, but he supposed this man had determined by some means that he was the author of the malware, and was here to threaten him over it.

If the man knew everything about the situation, there was nothing Kousaka could do. However, Kousaka considered, until it was clear how much he did and didn't know, he couldn't carelessly open his mouth more than necessary. It wasn't impossible that this man actually knew almost nothing about the malware, and was bluffing to try and extract information. There was still room for bargaining, perhaps.

"Your face is saying "how much does this guy know?"", the man said.

Kousaka kept his silence.

"I see." The man's expression changed slightly. Maybe it was a smile, maybe it was showing discontent. "To tell the truth, I don't possess full knowledge of everything. For instance, why the virus's activation date had to be Christmas Eve. Why someone with this much programming expertise hasn't kept a job and is absorbed in making viruses. I could go on and on with points that seem unclear."

In short, the man was saying "I know everything."

"...I thought I'd discreetly covered my tracks to not leave any evidence," Kousaka said with resignation. "I'm just asking out of pure curiosity, but how in the world did you determine the author of malware that hasn't caused any damage yet?"

"No obligation to tell you that."

He's right about that, Kousaka thought. No one would purposefully show their hand in this situation.

"But," the man continued, "I'll tell you just for the sake of your puny pride. It's true, you're a pretty tough customer in the virtual world. I'll admit that much. But on the other hand, you're totally defenseless in the real world. ...You should get what I'm saying from that alone, right?"

Something cold ran down Kousaka's spine. Thinking about it, for the past few months, he left at a set time and weekday every week to go shopping, and during that time, the house was left empty. And when the weather was good, he kept the curtains open all day (he had a powerful belief in the bacteria-killing effect of sunlight). So if someone felt like it, it wasn't impossible to peer into his personal life - to be concrete, someone could sneak into his room, or peek through a telescope.

"And to answer your earlier question," the man appended, "I didn't start my investigation convinced you were a cybercriminal. I was just gathering information to determine whether or not Kengo Kousaka was suitable. Since I found blackmail, I decided to shift to using that, but originally I intended to just hire you for money."

"Suitable? For what?"

"For what I'm here to talk about."

A silence fell between the two. The man seemed to be waiting for Kousaka to speak.

"...So what is it you came to threaten me to do?", Kousaka asked, half in desperation. "I don't think I can do much..."

"I'd appreciate if you made it quick. If you'll keep being honest like that, then I won't have to threaten you any more than necessary."

After a breath-long pause, the man broke the subject.

"Kengo Kousaka, I want you to look after a certain kid."

"A kid?"

"Yes, a kid," he repeated.

*

I don't have too much hope for you, the man said as he left. Can't really blame him, Kousaka thought. Because this job really was a heavy burden for him. He disliked interacting with other people as it was, but he was especially bad with children and old people. The reason, of course, being "they seemed dirty."

But that said, he couldn't just give up from the get-go. If he couldn't fulfill this request, Kousaka wouldn't just be unemployed, he'd be unemployed with a criminal record.

Apparently, the kid's name was Hijiri Sanagi. Kousaka wasn't given any information beyond that.

His blackmailer also gave his own name: Izumi. Izumi's instructions were simple.

"At 5 PM tomorrow, go to Mizushina Park. Near the park, there'll be a kid feeding swans. That's Hijiri Sanagi."

Kousaka didn't quite understand the situation, but nodded for the time being.

"Your first duty is to become Hijiri Sanagi's friend."

Then Izumi appended a brief explanation of what the payment for success would be. The amount he specified was pretty big money to Kousaka at the moment.

Once Izumi left, Kousaka went around his room cleaning like mad. Just thinking about the possibility that someone had been intruding in there while he was out made him feel like he was losing his mind. But as much antiseptic as he used, the thick sense of an "other" wouldn't seem to go away.

The next night, Kousaka wore a coat, donned latex gloves on both hands, put on a disposable face mask, and placed disinfecting sheets and spray in his bag. Carefully checking the lock, he opened the door with a feeling of hopelessness.

It had been a long time since he'd left his holy ground past sunset. The air outside was piercingly cold, and his face and ears stung.

He chose to wear a suit so as not to make Hijiri Sanagi wary. Most people would be, if a stranger talked to them out of the blue. Even moreso at night. At times like these, a suit could give people a sense of relief. Kousaka was given this thought by taking into account his own experience last night.

He came to a stop on a sidewalk outside the train station. A small crowd had formed on the side of the road.

Peeking over their shoulders, he saw the onlookers were circled around a street performer. The performer was a man in his thirties, with a suitcase in front of him serving as a pedestal, on which marionettes danced. The man was making full use of all his fingers to control two marionettes at once. He's dexterous, Kousaka admired. A nearby cassette player played background music, "The Lonely Goatherd."

Kousaka watched the performance for a while. The marionettes had highly deformed designs, their facial features all different sizes, which took it past comical to grotesque. It seemed the male marionette chased the female marionette, or maybe the female marionette chased the male marionette, and as the two awkwardly kissed at the end, the music ended, and there was a round of applause.

With the audience feeling good, the puppeteer began to skillfully ask for payment. Once the other viewers left, Kousaka put a 1000-yen bill in the suitcase. The performer grinned, and said in a whisper:

May you have the puppets' protection.

Kousaka resumed walking. Luckily, the designated park was only a 30-minute walk from his apartment, so there was no need to use public transportation.

Kousaka had imagined, albeit faintly, that Hijiri Sanagi was a boy around ten years old. Just the look of the name, "Hijiri Sanagi" - and this was purely from Kousaka's assumption of how the name was written in kanji - seemed more masculine than not, and "sanagi" was the word for "chrysalis," which in his mind had more of an association with boys.

So it wasn't unreasonable that when he arrived at Mizushina Park and found the person in question, he was confused.

He first noticed the hair, dyed silver. It was short, platinum-blonde hair that could look ash-gray depending on the lighting, and her eyebrows were also slightly bleached. In addition, her skin was unhealthily pale, and her eyes were a stark black that sucked you in.

His gaze next went to the long legs coming out of her skirt. Despite the temperature being enough for breaths to turn white, she wore a short skirt that left her thighs exposed. She wore no tights or stockings, either. If Kousaka remembered correctly, she was wearing the girls' uniform from a high school in the area. She had a tartan scarf and an off-white cardigan on, but one couldn't imagine that these covered for how cold her legs must have been.

She was wearing thick monitor headphones like would be used in a studio. With their bland design, there was not even a chance of them being meant as a fashion statement. From the sound that seeped out, Kousaka supposed she was listening to old rock music.

Kousaka's gaze finally landed on the cigarette between her thin lips. At first, he couldn't tell whether or not they were frigid white breaths, but closer inspection revealed it was indeed smoke coming out of her mouth.

Hijiri Sanagi was a girl around seventeen years old. And not just any girl, but a type of girl Kousaka really couldn't deal with.

Sheesh, what was that Izumi expecting from me? Kousaka twisted his neck. What could have led him to the conclusion that I'd be suitable for this? He didn't even have a clue.

He just wanted to run, but that wouldn't fly. If he gave up his task already, Izumi might turn him in to the police any moment. While he did feel that wouldn't be entirely undeserved, he could at least try and fail first, and it wouldn't be too late to give up then.

No need to get nervous. It's not like I was told to seduce her and make her my lover. Just being friends will be enough.

He took off his face mask and put it in his pocket. Determined, he approached Sanagi.

Like Izumi said, Sanagi was standing near the lake and feeding swans. She took bread crusts out of a paper bag and threw them into the air, and the swans swarmed them all at once. She watched contentedly. She didn't seem to notice Kousaka beside her.

Not wanting to surprise her, he slowly entered her field of view and spoke.

"Um..."

After a few seconds, Sanagi looked toward him.

Facing her head-on, Kousaka couldn't help but admire Sanagi's appearance. Her figure made him imagine a female android created according to some clear design. Said design, however, wasn't meant to relax or soothe people, but to disturb and tense up anyone nearby.

"...What?", Sanagi asked, taking off her headphones and looking at him suspiciously.

Kousaka inadvertently looked away. It seemed his suit wasn't doing its job of easing her wariness. That figured. A schoolgirl in uniform being approached in the park at night by a young man in a suit was unnatural, no question. To put it lightly, it felt dangerous. Exercise clothes might have seemed more natural, at this rate.

"Can we talk for a second?", Kousaka asked, putting all his energy into a friendly smile. "Do you have time right now?"

"No," Sanagi replied lazily, cigarette in mouth. "I'm busy."

The natural response. Sanagi put her headphones back on and returned to her own world.

At this point, there was nothing Kousaka could do. The problem was something even more fundamental than the age gap or gender difference: he had never once endeavored to be friendly to another person.

Kousaka was at a loss. He couldn't think of his next move, so he followed Sanagi's example and watched the swans chase food from a fair distance away.

He disliked the majority of wild animals, but swans were one of few exceptions. Their bodies were all white, for one, but most importantly, they only appeared in winter. The way they always soaked in chilly water had a clean feeling to it. It was strictly his imagination, however, as this was actually because of pathogens in their bodies.

He took another look around the park. The lamps illuminating the snow-covered park made it seem like the whole place had a faint pale glow. Listening closely, he heard not only swans, but snow falling from branches to the ground. He closed his eyes and focused on such sounds.

He heard a sigh. Sanagi took her headphones off again and looked his way. Kousaka's eyes wandered from the piercingly sharp gaze. For a moment, he saw a blue earring glinting on Sanagi's ear.

"Hey, what do you want with me?"

This was no time to carefully consider words. I have to say something and make her less wary, Kousaka thought, and so he opened his mouth.

"I want to be friends with you."

It struck him as shady once he'd said it. Just the kind of line someone approaching with impure motives would say. Wasn't there some better way of expressing it? He could hardly make a case if she went running to the police to say "a suspicious man called out to me."

Sanagi looked at Kousaka with emotionless eyes. There was a long silence. She sucked on her cigarette and dropped the ash with an experienced motion. Then she kept staring at Kousaka as if appraising him.

Just say something already, anything, Kousaka pleaded silently. The cold sweat under his arms was unpleasant. He wanted to give up on this idiocy, go back to the apartment, and take a shower. He longed for his sacred grounds full of air purifiers and antiseptic.

After a while, Sanagi discarded her now-short cigarette by her feet. The flame went out immediately as it touched the ground wet from the snow.

"I guess Izumi asked you, right?", Sanagi asked listlessly, letting out a final puff of smoke. "You're the seventh one so far."

The smoke Sanagi let out was carried on the wind, and Kousaka covered his mouth at once.

Then a moment later, he guessed the meaning of "the seventh one."

"...You mean there have been others before me he's asked to be friendly with you?", Kousaka asked.

"Huh, Izumi didn't tell you anything?"

Kousaka revealed everything with resignation. "He just told me to "look after a kid." I assumed you were like a ten-year-old boy, so I was confused when I saw you."

"Then we're in the same boat. I never imagined he'd send a guy as old as you over. Wonder what he's thinking?" Sanagi scratched her chin with annoyance. "What's your name?"

"Kengo Kousaka."

"Izumi threatened you into doing what he says too, didn't he? Hey, what weakness is he exploiting from you?"

He hesitated briefly, but decided to answer honestly. Even if he kept his silence here, Sanagi would just get it out of Izumi.

"He's letting some criminal behavior of mine slide."

Sanagi showed great interest in those two words. "Criminal behavior?"

"Cybercrime. I made a computer virus and spread it."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because I like to. It's a hobby."

"Hmph. A hobby." Sanagi furrowed her brow, finding it hard to understand.

"By the way, what's your relation with that man?"

"I dunno. Parent and child?"

"Parent and child," Kousaka repeated. "I don't mean to stick my nose in someone's family matters, but were you ever taught to show respect to your parents at your house?"

"It might be parent-in-law and child."

"...Well, you don't have to answer if you don't want."

Kousaka turned around, putting his back to a fence, and looked up at the night sky. Just then, he discovered what looked like a bird's nest in the branches up above him. But it was too well-formed for a bird's nest, and a little too big. Maybe it's mistletoe, he concluded. He'd heard there were parasitic organisms that inhabited cherry trees and the like and stole nutrients.

Sanagi seemed to remember something and spoke up.

"Oh yeah, did Izumi say he'd pay you?"

Kousaka nodded. "If this job went well, sure."

"How much?"

Kousaka quietly informed her of the amount.

"That's quite a bit."

"Yeah. It's a small fortune to me right now."

Then Sanagi extended a hand toward Kousaka.

The sight of her throwing bread crumbs barehanded crossed his mind, and he stepped back without thinking.

However, she wasn't seeking a handshake.

"Give me half," Sanagi casually demanded. "Then I'll be your friend."

"...Is that what friends say?"

"A man like you and a girl like me becoming friends needs that kind of value. Common sense, right?"

"Is that how it is...?"

"That it is," Sanagi stated confidently. "If you don't want to, I don't mind. I don't care what you do."

"Got it. I'll pay." Kousaka readily accepted the demands of the girl years younger than him. Then he asked, taking a look around: "...By the way, you won't let Izumi hear about this part, will you?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"How can you say that for sure?"

"By having years of experience," she answered. "Now, hand over the money quick."

"...Can't it wait until after I get my payment?"

"No. If you can't pay upfront, I can't trust you."

"I don't have much on hand. Can you wait until next time we meet?"

"Sure, but don't try to fool me. If you offend me, I'll go to the police and tell them everything that did and didn't happen."

"I'm not lying. I'll have it ready by next time."

"Then I'll come see you tomorrow. Tell me your address."

Kousaka winced. What a forceful girl. He told Sanagi the apartment address, and she entered it into her smartphone. It seemed she was checking the location with a map application.

"It's in walking distance from here," Sanagi said to herself. "When do you get home?"

"Anytime."

"Anytime... so, what's your job?"

"None."

"Then why are you wearing a suit?"

He didn't care to explain, so Kousaka just replied "For show."

Sanagi had an expression of deep shock, but immediately muttered "Well, I guess I can't speak ill of others" and glanced toward her own outfit. Kousaka waited for further words, but she'd already wrapped things up for herself.

"You know, I was wanting somewhere to kill time all day. Loitering around outside on weekdays would get me escorted home."

"You don't go to school?"

Sanagi ignored that question. Kousaka figured it was a pointless question, too. A proper student who attended class wouldn't have hair dyed this color or earrings.

"I'll come visit at whatever time tomorrow. Bye-bye."

With that, Sanagi put her headphones back on, turned her back to Kousaka, and began to walk. He hastily cried "Hold on," but his voice was overpowered by the music.

This has gotten worrying, Kousaka thought.

His holy ground was in danger.

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