I'm Afraid of Americans

An android showed up with industrial amounts of peaches, flour, milk, and butter, but no sugar, cinnamon, or ginger, which was a shame since, the recipe Stella had learned used those. Isla was too busy tapping, so Stella received them by herself. They didn't fit through the door. She put them on the lawn. A quick infrared scan showed that Rebecca wasn't home yet.

"Ehh, Stellaaa!" Isla called out from inside. "I'm getting grilled because you apparently let in some random guy into your house, and he's freeloading or something. So annoying."

"...grilled?"

"I mean like. Scolded. This is so dumb. Who cares if you let some guy into your house? What are you, twenty? Why are they treating you like a child? Also, how would they even know? You're not flagged as high-risk. They legally can't monitor you."

He said that, but her address was public, as was her 'file', whatever that meant. Probably basic information, like her place of origin, height and weight, functionalities, amount of nukes, etc. 

As for the other subject... come to think of it, Shigure might've gotten the wrong impression. With his personality, Stella could see him twisting 'there's a guy with unclear objectives in my house' into a worst case scenario. Like Isla being a spy, for example. But he wasn't. Stella had scanned him multiple times.

"Whatever. I'll just disable messages. Anyway, I saw the ingredients are here, so let's get cookin'!"

Kou peeked at her from the edge of the window. Stella waved, but he hid. Rude. She thought they'd had a bonding moment earlier.

Isla (literally) bounced out the door. "Let's see... oh. Oh, dear."

"Something wrong?" Asked Stella.

"I think I messed up the amount of ingredients by a couple orders of magnitude."

"I understand. Let's raise the samples by two orders of magnitude, then."

Isla toyed with the leg of his glasses. "Uhh... so that's like.... two times ten... times ten... two hundred thousand slices!?"

It seemed like Isla's strengths did not lie in theoretical physics or basic arithmetic, but that was okay. Everyone had flaws. "We'd originally planned on one slice per inhabitant. We'll just give every inhabitant in the neighborhood two hundred slices. If disagreements arise, we can threaten them."

It was true that the amount of boxes standing taller than Stella's two-story house home prison had seemed moderately excessive. Perhaps it'd be wise to keep Isla away from her bank account from now on. "No," he said. "Don't threaten them into eating two hundred slices of pie."

"I understand."

"It might give mixed messages."

"That is too bad."

Kou was a peek-a-boo once again. Isla circled the mountain of boxes once, twice. "So... how do we start?"

"It's best to start with the crust."

"The crust! Great idea."

Stella had a vague suspicion he didn't know what she was talking about—in general, not just about crusts. "Would you look up a recipe for 'pie crusts', please?" She asked. "Do charge your phone as well."

Her scheme worked: Isla left. By herself, she began to unpack the ingredients. Usually, it was best to leave the dough rest on the fridge for a couple of hours, but she failed to see how she'd fix hundreds of flour balls at a time into her moderately-sized kitchen. She had no cooling compartments. If she took too long to prepare all the pies, many of the ingredients would go to waste.

To herself, she admitted, "So this is why 'they' want 'experience'."

This wouldn't do.

"I'll be right back," she told Isla, who was finger-mashing the holo-screen.

Kou hid when she approached his house, like one of those plants that snapped close if touched. Predictably, when she knocked, he did not open. He curled right beneath the window, ears flattened.

"I don't understand. Your behavior right now is at odds with your behavior earlier. Is it because of Isla's presence?"

"...Isla? Is that what he told you his name was?"

Oh, good. She hadn't expected Kou to respond. "Indeed. Is there something wrong with him?"

"Yeah."

"That's fine. There's something wrong with everyone. Would it be possible for you to lend me your kitchen again?"

"His name is Easley," was Kou's response.

By this point, Stella was used to non-sequiturs. "Would you please lend me your kitchen? I will nuke you if you don't."

"No."

This stumped her.

"What's THE Easley doing in your house?"

"I don't know."

"Huh!?" Finally, Kou opened the door. He wore the (black) trenchcoat and (black) hat again, with the same clothes as yesterday below. "Lies. You're lying."

"I am not."

"You have to be! Why... how..." He trailed off. "...or maybe you're right."

"I am."

Kou never looked at people straight in the eye; he always tilted his head to the side.

He shut the door close.

"Wait—"

He locked it.

"Rude!" Stella called out. "And stinky! You should shower more often!"

She stomped back to her house. What a waste of time. And money. That small... digression... didn't take away the mountain of ingredients taking over her lawn. At least there was no 'Sun' to damage them in the classical sense.

Should she incinerate them?

...no, that would be wasteful. How about donating them? Would anyone want them? "Stellaaa!" That was Eas—Isla again. She'd learned from Shigure that it was best to respect the way people wanted to be addressed. "I fixed the issue with the freeloader. I don't know how, but they thought I was the culprit." Best not to tell him it'd been a severe miscommunication issue. "I'm working on the holo-ad right now."

"Please don't."

"Don't worry, I won't charge."

"No. Please."

But before she could rush in to stop him, somebody stopped in front of her lawn: the same girl that'd said hi to her earlier. Another neighbor? She also had cat ears, though her eyes were as black as her waist-length hair. One of her arms was silver, mechanical, with no attempt to hide either thing. "Hello," said the girl. "May I ask what those boxes are for?"

"Peach pie," replied Stella. "Do you want some?"

"Oh. I..."

"It's free."

The girl's ears perked as the word. Some things really never changed with time. "Much obliged. I was gonna call the cops, but free food is free food!"

"Yes. However, you'll only get them if you lend me your oven."

Stella knew it was in poor taste, but between indecorous bribery and wasting resources, one was clearly better than the other. The girl's bangs fell right on top of her eyebrows; they slid to one side as she tilted her head. She stared at the boxes.

Time to try a different approach. "Do you know Easley?"

"...who, I'm sorry?"

"Easley. From Jupiter."

The girl shook her head, frowning, head still tilted.

"Well. I see. That's irrelevant. Then... please please lend me your oven please I'll do anything please the man inside my house is crazy and I have no one else to rely on please—"

"Fine! Fine."

"Thanks."

"Whew." The girl placed her hands on her hips. "That pie better be tasty, then. Just... give me a few. I live two houses ahead, across the street. Would that be a problem?"

"I don't see how it would be."

"Uh, because..." She trailed off. She gestured at the boxes. "...oh, well. I'll be waiting. Good luck with those."

Once the girl entered her house, Stella backflipped. One down, plus Rebecca, Kou, and her. If seven more neighbors agreed to the coffee, peach pie and milk shop, then it would become a reality, and Stella's life would have meaning again.

All that'd be left would be to...

...find what happened to her ex-owner?

...recruit Shigure?

And then?

No. Not now. Best not to ruin her good mood. Inside her house, Isla argued with someone on the phone. Something about a misunderstanding and temporary and happiness—about Stella. Most likely clearing up her earlier conversation with Shigure. Even while angry, he still sounded as though he'd jump and float away at any moment. Her ex-owner had been like that, too, kind of. More cynical. Less stupid. (It was okay to think bad things about people, since they couldn't hear it.)

Once he hung up, Stella told him, "I'm gonna make peach pie somewhere else."

"Wuh?"

"Also here. But I'll start there. You can help if you promise not to destroy anything."

"Ah! No, I won't. I'm super trustworthy. Just tell me what to do."

If Stella had been able to sigh, she would've.