Absolute Beginners

As Stella and Fuyukawashigurebob entered the new 'home', someone peeking from the window of the house next to theirs hid once Stella returned the gesture. How rude. She just wanted to say hi.

Fuyukawashigure flashed his phone in front of the door, which instantly unlocked itself as a result. How unsafe. "If you were connected to the network, it'd automatically open once you approached," he said, "But."

"That's disturbing. Thank you for warning me."

"...you're welcome." Fuyukawashigure walked inside. He took his shoes off, too, which was very strange and silly, but Stella didn't want him to feel bad, so she did the same. Unlike him, she had no socks, though. His socks were also very strange and silly; they had a bunch of lines with dots arranged in aesthetically unpleasing patterns.

The light turned on by itself. At least Stella knew where the electricity came from: a row of gigantic solar panels that stood next to the bubble. She'd seen them back when they were still in the rocket (her and Fuyukawashigure, not the solar panels).

As for the contents of the house, they were fine, but Stella would probably donate them to shelters later. The coffee table was nice. So were the couches, embroidered with flowers, filled to the brim with crocheted cushions in various shades of pastel colors. The house was small enough that the living room and kitchen were one and the same, with some kind of fabric to separate them, plus a table thing of sorts surrounded by pink, blue, and yellow booths, counting from left to right. They looked frilly.

Stella pushed the cushions off the couches before she sat. Fuyukawashigurebob watched this the way he would a dog urinating on the carpet. "You like?" He asked.

"Sit," Stella replied.

"I'm fine here."

"I'll give you cigarettes if you sit."

Fuyukawashigurebob's smiles were kind of scary. They never reached his face. Or, well, they had once—when he'd made fun of her phobia. Wordlessly, he sat, picking a cushion on his way to the couch so he could hug it. "I have to leave soon, though," he said. "They authorized me to stay on the Moon for the night, but I have to find someplace to—"

"Here."

"—stay. No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not. I'm already on thin ice as is."

Was there ice on the... wait, that was probably an idiom. Fuyukawashigurebob was on thin ice because... ice was cold? Did he think Stella was hostile? Was she hostile? "I don't hate you," she clarified. "In fact, I quite like you."

"Cool," said Fuyukawashigurebob. 

These ice metaphors were getting too complex. She had to act, and fast. "Lend me your balls."

"What."

"Never mind. You're my only point of contact with society right now. This won't do. I need more support. When will someone tell me what happened to my ex-owner? Who can I go to in times of need? Who thought it'd be a good idea to re-animate junk they found on a landfill? What if I was hostile? What then? I don't understand. You and your organization are crazy and I need help, but I can't get it because you won't lend me your ball line screen."

"Stella," he said, "Please. Just."

"You don't call me 'dear' anymore."

"I don't? Oh, you're right." Fuyukawashigurebob paused for a moment. "I keep forgetting to do that. It's a social worker thing. To be more agreeable, I don't know. Let's get back to topic. I appreciate it, Stella, dear, but I really have to go, the reason being because, like I've said multiple times, this is way outside of my scope of support. Understand?"

Stella nodded.

"Good. It's not a goodbye. I'll be following up with you via... whatever you want. Phone? Holo-call? Email? You can choose."

Stella nodded.

"Oh, come on..."

"You come on," she mumbled.

Fuyukawashigurebob sighed. He leaned against the couch, still holding the cushion, albeit loosely. "Even if I wanted to stay," he said, "I can't. Remember when I told you you'll get additional help? It's because they know what they're doing. They know it sucks ass to wake up to a world you don't understand that's full of strangers controlling your life, but they think it's better than being dead. Point is, they'll help. You won't be alone for long."

"That statement exudes mixed feelings."

"Well, I don't know. None of this would be happening if they'd given your case to someone who could actually handle it."

"You're handling it well," Stella said.

"Right."

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

"There's no need to be sarcastic."

"I'm not." There it was, The Gesture. "I'm not being sarcastic, that's the thing. I know you mean it. That's the thing. If you weren't so... that, I would've fucked off hours ago. I wouldn't even be here."

"But you are."

"Yes, I am."

All this while, Stella had been slamming her tail against the couch, and she only now realized this. Should she be honest? He wasn't being honest. Unless one of them relented, communication would remain futile. How ironic—sentience and doubt came hand in hand. A dog or a flea could more effectively deliver a message despite lacking the ability to talk; they lacked shame and regret to hold them back.

Stella was no human. Like every android she knew, she'd once been nothing but a machine. She'd once been able to speak without subtext, act without fear, and be free. As 'life' went on and 'she' awakened, she found that some words and actions lead to more favorable reactions. Some people called that a 'relationship'.

"You say I won't be alone for long," Stella said, "But how long is that?"

Fuyukawashigurebob shrugged.

"Say something."

"Something." He closed his eyes. "Sorry. I don't know."

"For how long were you alone?"

"I'm not an android."

Wasn't that a non-sequitur? "Allow me to more effectively phrase it: after you committed a war crime and were mystifyingly assigned to be a social worker, how did—"

"Nope." Fuyukawashigurebob stood up. "That's it. See you tomorrow."

"—you stop being alone?"

But communication had ended. Fuyukawashigurebob placed the cushion on the couch, held out his hand so she'd give him his coat, nodded once she did, then headed for the door.

"Wait, Fu... Yu... wait!" Yet as Stella said this, she didn't budge. "When will..."

He'd said tomorrow.

Fine.

It'd be fine.

She could rest now.

No more wars. No more conflict.

"I'll be back by eight thirty," he said once he'd reached the door. "We'll find you a job tomorrow."

But loneliness was all encompassing. No amount of peace would ever quell it. Nothing could. Such was the curse of sentience.