I Only Swiped Right. ~The Lover-Hunting with All-Case Errors~ File.01 [Part 1]

File.01 [Part 1]: A 3-hour one-way remote support and the bug in the blue light car

“Makoto, how was your weekend?”

Monday lunch break. At a cafe in the office district, my junior colleague Mio is looking at me while holding a Frappuccino straw in her mouth.

“...I got motion sickness from the highway bus vibrations and my own poor judgment.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

What do I mean, she asks. I didn't feel like I could explain it well. If I had to force it, I spent last weekend traveling three hours one way to Oita, paid 2,000 yen, had my sofa seat stolen, and came back without being able to hand over my Valentine's chocolate. That's all.

Yes, that's all, but still.

§ Matching occurs—and a quiet upward revision begins

Going back two weeks.

My main job is a manager in the customer support department of a game company. Every day, I process errors encountered by users on the other side of the screen, making a living by “returning negatives to zero.” Calm, logical, and not swayed by emotions. ...At work, that is.

The problem is my private life.

What caught my eye when I opened the matching app was one man's profile.

Lives in Oita, 47 years old. Occupation: Caregiving. Annual income is... well, you can guess. But his smile in the photo is nice. He looks young for his age. And his profile said this:

“I feel rewarded when patients and users thank me. I'm working hard with the goal of eventually getting qualifications like a care manager so I can be useful to many people.”

Something started to quietly boot up in my brain.

“Caregiving job. = High probability of being a person with high hospitality and inherent kindness.” “Aiming for qualifications. = Has ambition.” “Can talk about rewards. = Takes pride in work.”

I swiped right.

§ One exchange per day, a careful accumulation of bugs

The message exchange began. One exchange per day, at a slow pace.

“Are you working today?” “I have a night shift today.”

Right, nursing care involves night shifts. They're replying properly even though they're busy.

"Have you been in nursing care for a long time?" "It's been 15 years now."

15 years. Doing the same job for 15 years. That alone made my estimation of them rise silently.

We started talking about our favorite foods.

"I like chicken, I love yakitori." "If it's chicken, Oita has a lot of options like toriten and fried chicken." "Please take me to a recommended place sometime."

I meant it as a polite social gesture. I really did.

"Sure! Oita is also rich in seafood. If you ever come to Oita, I'll show you around. If it's this month, I'm off on the 13th and 14th, which are Saturday and Sunday."

That night, I stared at my smartphone screen.

The 13th... the 14th...

The 14th is Valentine's Day, isn't it?

And the time was past midnight.

That time of day when human judgment is at its lowest. That time when sleep deprivation erodes logical thinking and, for some reason, only a sense of omnipotence is amplified.

"Alright. Let's go."

And so, my Oita expedition was decided by a "Sure!" to a polite social gesture and the mysterious tension of midnight. Moreover, on Valentine's Day. Thinking it wouldn't be right to go empty-handed, I bought 3,000 yen worth of chocolate at a nearby cake shop the next day.

I hadn't yet realized that a fatal error was already in progress at this point.

§ 5:30 AM, Sortie

The day of. The alarm went off. 5:30 AM.

With my HP already depleted from lack of sleep, I boarded the 8 o'clock highway bus. While idly watching the scenery outside the window pass through the mountains of Kyushu, I tucked the 3,000 yen chocolate into my tote bag and traveled for about 3 hours. I arrived at Oita Station.

When I sent a message saying, "I've arrived," a reply came immediately.

"I'm in a blue light car on the road to the left of the exit. The license plate is 0000."

A kei car...

Well, whatever. A car's engine displacement has nothing to do with a person's character. I'm a CS manager. I shouldn't judge users based on preconceptions. I told myself that.

A blue kei car slid into the space in front of the station. I opened the passenger door and got in. And then.

Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you.

...Hmm?

Huh?

They look... quite different from their photo.

Thinking it would be rude to stare at their face, I kept looking forward and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you." But my brain was working at full capacity. When was that photo taken? Ten years ago? Fifteen years ago? Was it an old snapshot with the cache never cleared?

Which would you prefer for lunch, meat or seafood?

I'd like to have seafood!

There's a place that serves delicious seafood bowls, so let's go there.

There's still hope. There's still a chance. The hope of a seafood bowl was flickering faintly inside me. But as the car started moving, I tried to make conversation.

You wrote in your profile that you work in nursing care, right? What kind of work do you do?

There was a brief pause.

...I'm a nursing assistant.

Oh, I see. So not a nurse?

I can't exactly write that I'm a nurse, can I? That's why I wrote nursing care.

Silence.

My internal CS sensor gave a quiet, soft beep.

[Error Code: Mismatch between profile specifications and implementation detected]

Why aren't you aiming to be a nurse? Suppressing the urge to fire off questions one after another, I gazed at the scenery of Oita spreading out beyond the window.

But, I've come this far.

I am definitely going to eat that seafood bowl.

(To be continued in Part 2)