The Man Who Sold The World

"...ah, shit, I forgot you don't eat."

"That rhymed," Stella observed. Fuyukawshigurebob had invited himself into her kitchen, but that was all right. Fruitlessly, he'd open the cupboards, fridge, cabinets, only to find nothing but the void. She sat on one of the booths next to the kitchen-living room divider, chin resting on her hands.

Fuyukawashigurebob ran a hand down his face. "I should've bought something on my way here."

"Breakfast?"

"Yes."

Strange. From what she'd learned, back in the day, hotels tended to provide breakfast as a service. To remove this seemed like the opposite of evolution, but she digressed. "Did you sleep on the street?" Stella asked, since that seemed more likely.

"No. I'll just order something." This time, Fuyukawashigurebob took the ball line screen out. Stella could never tell whether he'd use that, or his phone, or the wristwatch. He was tapping angrily again. "...great, still closed. And this other place doesn't have—seriously? Fifty minute wait time? Eighty minute wait time? And the closest cafe is an hour away by foot? I'm so done."

"Given you continue to forget about my lack of digestive system, was your plan was to show up at my house and eat my food?"

"Basically. Oh, whatever. Let's get you presentable before anything else."

Fuyukawashigurebob and Stella must be closer than she would've thought; if she were in his exact situation, she sure wouldn't count on the resources of someone she'd met yesterday. Maybe people from the future... present... were all like that. It made sense. No wars or homeless children implied abundance. Stella smacked her open palm on the divider table thing, startling Fuyukawashigurebob. "Wait! I know. I'll just ask Rebecca."

"Who?"

"Neighbor. She and her husband eat, therefore, they have food. One moment. Also, watch this."

On her way out, Stella performed a backflip. It made Fuyukawashigurebob smile, and it reached his eyes for a change, so she did another one. Instead of telling her how cool she was, or thank you, he said, "I'll be fine. Come on," then headed to what theoretically should be her room.

Sullen, Stella followed. Fuyukawashigurebob judgmentally glanced at her untouched bed (the other one had been rolled upon, but he didn't need to know that) before turning his attention to the closet which, true to his word, had been filled to the brim with outfits. Upon opening it, he Gestured at it. "Ah," Stella said.

"Have fun."

"Will you leave?"

"No. I'll wait outside. Oh, right, you didn't shower, either, did you. Do you know how to use it?"

Stella shook her head. She was a liar now. With how fragile Fuyukawashigurebob's mental state was, he might've eaten non-organic material while alone. Stella followed him to the shower. She pretended to be awed once he turned the faucet on. Thankfully, the water from yesterday had already evaporated. "Stay," she told him.

"I will."

But their idea of 'stay' seemed to differ, for he tried to leave the bathroom, flinching when she seized his wrist. (Mostly the former). "Stay here," she said, "In case... something goes wrong?"

"It'll be fine."

"But what if?"

"You can't seriously be asking me to stay in the bathroom while you shower."  Silence. "...no. Let me go. Stella. Come on. They'll kill me if they see this. Oh, come on."

So then he sat on the toilet lid while she showered. As Stella undressed, Fuyukawashigurebob drew what Stella assumed to be curtains between the shower and the rest of the bathroom,  between her and him. Oh, well. She tossed the clothing items over the unnecessary barrier so they wouldn't get wet.

She liked scalding water. Too bad the difference in gravity impacted the... well, impact. If only water was heavier. Or denser. Oh, well. "I'd suggest you attempt to order food again as you wait," Stella said, reaching for a provisional shampoo bottle. "While I still plan on acquiring food from our neighbors, it's best to have an emergency plan."

Like Stella, Fuyukawashigurebob raised his voice as he spoke given how noisy the shower was. Silly strange man. Wasn't it obvious her hearing capabilities were superior? "Right. Thing is, we're out of time. I woke up late. That's why I didn't get breakfast at the hotel, or grabbed something to eat on my way here. We're supposed to be at the job office in, let's see... twelve minutes ago! Amazing! It's one of those fucking days, isn't it."

He'd muttered the last sentence. Amazing! Silly man.

"Oh, by the way, I'm not telling you to hurry up or anything. Take your time."

"Your statements are contradictory."

"They're not. You have time, I don't. So long as... wait, Stella, I didn't tell you to—"

Stella turned the shower off, then walked out. Fuyukawashigurebob had his hands on his face again. There was a painting like that. Just like that, with a throne instead of a toilet. Stella couldn't remember the name. "I don't know what contemporary fashion is like," she told him. "Help me pick an outfit."

"Put something on."

"That's the plan."

"No, I mean..." He trailed off. Fuyukawashigurebob did not complete the thought. He seemed distressed.

Sullen, Stella said, "I'm sorry. You don't have to help. I know hunger impairs cognitive functions."

"No, I... they're... they're monitoring me. I can't look at you while naked."

"That's a non-sequitur."

"It's not. Just... put on a towel or something. Then I'll help you."

If Stella had been the same model as the android from yesterday, this would be where her engines would begin to whir. Even for Fuyukawashigurebob, this was nonsense. How did her lack of clothes impede anything? Oh, well. Stella put a towel. "Done," she said.

Fuyukawashigurebob took his hands off his face for a split-second, only to groan, then cover his eyes again. "Wrap it around your TORSO. Don't put in on your HEAD. Got it?"

Stella did that. "Got it."

"Is your torso covered now?"

"By the towel, yes."

Fuyukawashigurebob seemed far more pleased at her actions this time. "Thank fuck. Well, time to choose your outfit now. Then we'll go job hunting. Would be a lot easier if you'd agreed to do it online."

"Choose my outfit online?"

"No, job hunting. Hurry up." He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his fist. "Sorry. Take your time, Stella, dear."

Her hair dripped all the way to her room because Fuyukawashigurebob wanted her to use the towel as a garment instead of as something to dry herself with, because... they were monitoring him? 'They'? Fuyukawashigurebob stayed on the living room. He hugged a cushion again. "Fu... yu..."

"Once you finish dressing up, you can come here and I'll tell you if it looks good or whatever."

"But how am I supposed to choose?"

"How am I supposed to choose? Do I look like someone who knows about fashion?"

"More than me," Stella said. "Could you at least explain why me lacking clothes is a problem? I understand the social norm differs while in public environments, but this is... my house, right? And you're also naked, just under your clothes. I don't understand."

Fuyukawashigurebob buried his face into the cushion. His hair had been tied into a loose ponytail today. That explained a lot. It'd seemed longer yesterday. 

"Fu... Yu..."

"Bob."

"Ka... Wa... Shi..."

"Shigure. Can you say that? Shi... gu... re."

"Shi... Ru... Gu... Shigurebob."

Very strangely, he laughed. The cushioned drowned most of it, but even then, Stella could tell the action was humorless. Perhaps he'd finally lost it. His behavior had been particularly nonsensical today. After a pause, he emerged from the cushion. "That'll do," Shirugu said.

"Fuyukawashigurebob."

"No."

"Bobreugihsawakuyuf. Fuyu. Kawa. E-R-U-G-I-H-S. Shigure."

Shigure glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, from above his shoulder, eyebrows raised. He nodded. "Right. Say that again. Without the 'Bob'."

"Shigure."

He clapped. Stella was too proud of herself to care if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Shigureshigureshi... I remember now. Bathrooms are separated for 'men' and 'women'. This implies sexual dimorphism has a significant impact for civilians." He clapped again. It was definitely sarcastic this time. No matter. "Therefore," Stella continued, "It's safe to conclude that 'they' follow this arbitrary code of conduct, 'they' meaning the ones who monitor you. And me?"

"Yes. Exactly, yes. They don't monitor you, though. Just me."

"Who is 'they'?" Asked Stella.

Shiruge hesitated for a moment. He'd turned around enough that he could lean his arm on the back of the couch. "If you say my name correctly, with no mistakes whatsoever, not even once, I'll tell you."

Stella couldn't hold back the grin. Easy. "Fu... Yu..."

"Fast."

Stella couldn't sustain the grin. She chewed on her lip. Her damp tail smacked the doorframe by accident. She still held the towel over her torso as a dress, with her hair dripping and forming a puddle. Fuyu... Bob... no... Shigu... the blue-haired man in a suit. He could be scary sometimes. She'd seen snipers at work with less intense expressions. "F-fuyukawashigu. Re."

He turned his back on her. "Nope. Failed. Choose something similar to what they gave you yesterday. It'll do."

This is what she got for not connecting to the internetwork in order to optimize her language modulators. It was one thing to regurgitate, and another to interpret. It'd taken years for her to truly understand English, her default language.

Sighing, Stella slid on a button-down white shirt and khaki, ankle-length skirt. It was as close an approximation to yesterday's clothes as she could find. "Done," she informed, then headed to the living room. For a moment, she almost considered posing like a model in a magazine. Did they even have those anymore? Anyway, she just kind of stood in front of S-H-I-G-U-R-E. "Is this good?"

"Looks cute," he said. "Just get some shoes and we're good to go."

Stella felt like punting him and she didn't know why. Punt. On his ass. While he walked. So he'd topple forward like a falling telephone pole.

Later, as they crossed the door, he seized her shoulder all of a sudden. Shigure stared at her—at her chest—for almost four seconds. She counted. "They actually gave you... unbelievable."

"Hm?"

So he herded her back into the room. He opened and closed cabinets just like he'd done at the kitchen before. "...oh, fuck, there's no... I mean... I guess it makes sense, but."

"Hmm?"

He sighed. "They gave you underwear yesterday, right? Like—under your shirt? Remember? Where is it? Just wear that again."

"Hmmm... but it's dirty."

"Who cares."

Stella had to go back to her dirty laundry stash (which, to be fair, consisted purely of the five items she'd worn yesterday—skirt, shirt, undershorts, two underwear garments). She took off her clothes. She put on said underwear. She put on her clothes. This whole thing was ridiculous. They weren't nearly this strict at the military.

Finally, Shigure told her, "Good. You're set."

"Hmph."

"...but, next time, please dry your hair."