Jump They Say

Stella took another walk—even tripped, on purpose this time—but nobody talked to her again. This was unbearable. Would she have to go through this same torture every night? She spent an eternity and a half rummaging through her clothes. Since she had no idea how contemporary fashion worked, she couldn't tell whether her choices were good or bad. During the day, she'd been too busy to really notice or care. 

When this fell apart her, next activity was to rearrange her furniture. It looked noticeably worse than before. No problem: she'd made a map of the 'preset' in case she ruined the aesthetic.

Was that thing on the second floor the 'theater room'? It looked scary. She decided against using it.

The pool seemed fine, but Stella shivered when she shoved her arm into the water. Also, under the artificial 'nighttime' lights, it looked like petroleum.

She performed two thousand backflips.

She sat by the pool.

She lay by the pool.

Animals had it so easy. They spent such a large portion of their times doing nothing, being nothing. Some of them even traveled to imaginary worlds due to the miracle that dreams were.

As she lay on the pebble path next to the pool, Stella stared at the other mass of petroleum—the one above her. Be it on Earth or the moon, man-made lights swallowed stars. 

Humans... and androids... had already conquered their way to Saturn. At first, it'd kind of impressed her, but now that she had no option but to gaze at enormity... it really was nothing, huh? Should a microbe be proud of conquering a grain of sand on the beach?

Stella showered and washed her underwear and hanged it so it'd dry and put on clothes and Shigure's anti-radiation shield and walked and paced and crawled until she finally couldn't take it anymore, or wouldn't, same difference, after which she knocked on the door of Rebecca and Kou's house until one of them opened. Kou. Kou opened the door. "It's four in the morning," he said.

"Hi," replied Stella. "How are you?"

"It's... four in the morning..."

"Can I go in?"

"Uh..." He glanced inside, where a faint blue light flickered from a screen at the corner. "...I guess. Just be quiet, 'cuz she's sleeping."

Thus, Stella walked in. Kou's head barely turned, but he watched her as she headed to the kitchen. "Your tail doesn't seem to be functional," she noted, "But your eyes can see in the dark. Am I correct?"

"Yeah. What are you doing?"

How fascinatingly incoherent modern-day catpeople were. "I humbly request you lend me ingredients so i can prepare something for Shi—my husband. Please? Of course, I'll cook for you, too."

"Uh... I guess."

Shigure's anti-radiation shield limited her mobility a bit, but she managed. The ingredients didn't seem too alien to her, thankfully. As Stella sniffed them, their origins, form of production, primary objective, and ultimate destiny became apparent. She got this. She'd cooked before. Her ex-owner had once told her that cooking was like riding a bicycle in the sense that one never forgot how to do it. She'd never ridden a bicycle nor did she know what that was, but she trusted his judgment.

Halfway through the process, she jumped, for she hadn't noticed Kou had dragged a chair towards the table thing that separated the kitchen and living room; for an unknown amount of time, he'd been sitting there, alternating between glancing at her and some electronic device in his hands. "Go on," he said. "Pretend I'm not here."

She tried. She really did. "Am I bothering you?"

"Nah."

The hair on her tail had bristled, but she couldn't smooth it down without contaminating both her tail and the food. "Un... understood. At the moment, I'm preparing a dessert called 'peach pie'. I chose it due to the concerning amount of canned peaches under the sink."

"That's aight."

"I'm glad," Stella said, though she didn't know that 'aight' was. It didn't seem to be a hostile response. She kept working, kept cooking. Kou didn't budge. At some point, he stopped using the device; he just watched her.

"Who taught you?" He asked.

"My ex-owner."

"Your... huh? Ex-owner?"

Shigure's words came to mind: you're free, Stella. It made sense that modern-day catpeople would fail to grasp the concept of belonging to someone. Best to try and translate this. "Ex-husband?" She tried.

"Wow..."

It was hard to tell if this had worked or not, but she had to move on. "I do hope you enjoy it. Is there coffee, by any chance? I haven't smelled any."

Kou's eyes darted along with her hands. He barely blinked. "Mhm. Turn on the thingy."

"What is 'the thingy'?"

"The... uh..." He hopped off the chair, and towards her. Stella's froze in place. He tapped a strange, mysterious device on top of the open, whose lights flashed red at first, then green. "This thing. Give it a few minutes."

"The... thingy... and coffee comes out of it?"

"Mhm." He sat back on the chair in the exact same position. Kind of impressive, honestly.

As Stella molded and rolled, the thingy whirred. Like the oven and her, it was a machine. She was the only one cursed to be sentient.

"When you hear a dingy sound, it means it's ready. The coffee. I'll go and wake her up."

Kou left. Burglary must be at an all-time low if people left a stranger alone in their house like that... though then again, hadn't she kind of done the same with Shigure? But he was a social worker, so it was okay in her case.

6:02 A.M. said the non-sentient oven. Some creatures were born cats, other humans. Some machines were created as kitchen appliances, others as weapons of war. You're free, Shigure had told her, but they were only as free as what contained their consciousness, where they came from, and where they'd go. 'They' had chosen a life for her, and they'd told her to enjoy it.

Rebecca almost screamed when she caught sight of Stella. "What the—oh, shit. You scared me. Holy shit."

"Good morning," Stella said.

"Good... good... KOU?"

Kou followed right after. Their house seemed to share the exact layout as her own: kitchen living room hybrid,  a hallway leading to two bedrooms on either end, and a bathroom. The stairs next to the entrance must lead to a theater room, too. "We got visit," he said.

"But WHY?"

He shrugged.

Deeming him a lost cause, she turned to Stella. "What happened?" Rebecca asked. Her pajamas looked fluffy; she rubbed her arms as she headed to the kitchen. "Why'd you... what..."

Stella had no excuse. None. She had to recall Rebecca yelling about catgirls to be able to interact with her without feeling too silly. "I realized I had no breakfast for my husband, so I asked yours if I could make some. Of course, I prepared pie for you, too."

"Pie for breakfast? Wait—you used the peaches!"

"I let her," Kou said.

Whatever Rebecca wanted to say then, she bit back. "...fine."

Again, Kou sat in the exact same position.

Rebecca checked the oven, the fridge, the thingy. "You said your husband's coming over, right?" She asked. "Well, that's also fine. I'm actually curious to see what he's like. That pie looks great through the oven window. Let me..." She trailed off, reaching for a metallic tube on top of the fridge. "...Imma decorate it."

"Are you wearing underwear?" Stella asked.

Rebecca nearly dropped the tube. "Excuse me?"

"Does the question bother you?"

"She's a real one," Kou reminded. "The real ones are cuckoo. You reap what you sow, Becky."

"I told you to stop calling me... you know what, Kou? Why don't you go pick her husband up?" As though she'd asked him to use his innards as jumping rope, Kou scrambled off the chair, and into the hallway. Rebecca smirked, hand on her hips. "Thought so. Anyway, Stella, uh... yeah, no, I'm not answering that. When is your husband gonna show up?"

Shigure had also acted strangely when the topic of underwear came up. Must be the culture. No one at her platoon had the luxury of freaking out about clothes, or lack thereof, regardless of gender. 

"Stella?"

"My bad. Eight thirty, I think."

"Ohh... sounds good."

"I never implied I'd be bringing him here, though, just that I'd give him something to eat..."

Rebecca scowled at her.

"...or... I... suppose I could bring him."

Rebecca grinned.

Four peach pies, lots of coffee and what Rebecca referred to as 'whipped cream' later, Stella went to wait in front of her prison's door. It was hard to tell if this would be a poor decision or not. For one, she'd have to tell Shigure about her lies, or else they'd fall apart as he acted out of character. For two, he'd almost certainly disapprove of his role. For three, he'd get angry about being late again. But it should be fine. She'd saved them both time by showering and putting on clothes already. And cooking breakfast.

When he hopped out of the egg in front of the neighborhood, Stella ran towards him. He wore yet another suit. Same shoes, though. The almost frown almost surprise look was back when he saw her. No matter. "Good morning, Shigure!"

"...hello."

"See this? I chose it." She took off her anti-radiation shield, then twirled in front of him.

"Very cute. Glad to see you're in a good mood today. Uh. Stella. I. There's..."

"I got you breakfast."

"What? Why?"

Worrisome reaction. "You don't want it?" She asked.

"Why would you do that?"

So he didn't want it. Stella put the anti-sadness shield back on. "Never mind. I lied. Let us proceed with today's activities."

"No, I... if you already have it, that's fine, just don't do that again."

"Help you? Fine, I won't. Stay hungry."

Shigure blinked, raising his eyebrows, as though he hadn't been the one who'd started it.

Then again, had he?

He hadn't asked for anything.

On second thought, her scheme would've fallen apart quite easily, anyway. Stella glanced over her shoulder at Rebecca's house, where the couple were clearly peeking at them through the window. Passersby stared at them, too. "I'm—"

"Sorry."

"I'm sorrier," she said.

Shigure shook his head.

"I apologize. I was silly." This fell on deaf ears. Now he just looked sad and she was sad and this was what she got for straying off the path of 'happiness'. "In fact, these past two days, I've been nothing but silly. It is irrational to try to be something I'm not."

"Stella..."

"I know realize I've been causing a net negative on those around me, and that my quest for purpose is ultimately selfish. It seems obvious to me now that your organization knows best. If I follow their guidelines, eventually, I will be happy. Therefore, I will devote the rest of my days to... to... enjoying my... to... are you really sure you don't want breakfast?"

He had his hand on his face again. Between his fingers, she caught him closing his eyes.

"Understood," Stella said.

She noticed, only after Shigure gestured at the egg—the cab—, that it'd been waiting for them all along. Not anymore: the moment he dismissed it, it zoomed off. He stared at its general direction long after it'd run out of sight. Only when Stella tugged at his sleeve did he say, "Lead the way."

She had made a mistake. That much was obvious. Now, it was too late to regret.